FELICITY  CROFTON 


(See  page  s» 

'I   LOVE    YOUTH    AND    ALL    THINGS   THAT    ARE    HEALTHY    AND 
STRONG    AND   BEAUTIFUL" 


FELICITY  CROFTON 


BY 

MARGUERITE   BRYANT 

(Mrs.  Philip  Munn) 

AUTHOR  OF 
"CHRISTOPHER  HIBBAULT:   ROADMAKER" 


NEW  YORK 

DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 
1916 


COPYRIGHT,  1916,  BY 
DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 


TO 

CATHERINE 


2134217 


CONTENTS 


I.    "When  we  set  out  to  make  new  friends,  we  truly 

set  on  a  great  adventure" 3 

II.     "He  who  is  enmeshed  in  love's  toils  must  expect  to 

find  his  sight  grow  hazy  in  the  glamour"     .        .      50 

III.  "The  man  of  her  choice" 75 

IV.  "It  is  a  poor  achievement  that  does  not  bring  content 

in  its  train" 98 

V.    "Stella" 116 

VI.     "Every  straw  shows  the  way  the  wind  blows"     .        .     135 
VII.    "That  inevitable  point  in  life  when  the  past  and  fu- 
ture bending  to  each  other  touch  issues"      .        .     162 
VIII.    "It  is  the  first  duty  of  a  friend  to  stand  by  us  at 

need" 180 

IX.    "Now    I   must    deceive   my    friend    or   shatter   his 

future" 214 

X.  "Is  this  too  hard  that  I  ask  of  my  friend,  that  he 
should  believe  in  me  through  good  and  ill  re- 
port"   234 

XI.    An  understanding  between  two 249 

XII.    "The  feet  of  a  true  friend  are  swifter  than  rumour"    277 

XIII.  Mark  intervenes 304 

XIV.  "Show  me  the  man  who  will  shirk  no  responsibility, 

"who  will  judge  me  by  my  virtues  as  well  as  by 
my  faults,  who  will  ever  expect  me  to  act  up  to 
the  highest  that  is  within  me,  and  I  will  make  of 
him  a  friend  that  shall  last  till  I  need  friendship 
no  more."  ,.,,..,,.  321 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

'I  love  youth  and  all  things  that  are  healthy  and  strong 
and  beautiful."     (See  page  52.)         .        .        .        Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

'You  said  yourself  one  should  let  the  past  be  past,"  she 
entreated 170 

'Give  me  that,  please,  Adam" 218 

"She  stood  still,  watching  his  approach"        ....    306 


FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER   I 

"When  We  Set  Out  to  Make  New  Friends, 
We  Truly  Set  Out  on  a  Great  Adventure." 


IT  was  winter.  Not  the  spurious  winters  of  late  years 
— seasons  of  rain,  and  mouldy  dampness — but  a  time 
of  snow,  frost,  and  a  cold  so  penetrating  that  it  found 
a  lodging  even  in  the  warmest  corner  of  Bath.  Christ- 
mas itself  had  been  mild  enough.  It  was  not  till 
the  year  was  a  month  old  that  he  bestirred  himself 
to  answer  the  gibes  flung  at  his  failing  powers  by 
a  demonstration  that  his  mantle  was  still  white  and 
his  crown  still  of  icicles  if  so  it  pleased  him. 

The  hills  round  the  city  had  snow-clad  summits, 
giving  an  oddly  expanded  look  to  the  country.  The 
big  grey  stone  building  that  headed  a  combe  to  the 
south  of  the  city  looked  a  dirty  drab  before  the  virgin 
whiteness  of  the  wide  spaces.  At  the  bottom  of  the 
combe  there  was  a  little  lake  spanned  by  an  orna- 
mental bridge,  and  standing  there,  looking  up  the 
hill,  one  could  see  the  big  building  outlined  against 
a  faint  blue  sky.  The  skirting  woods  bent  their  snow- 
laden  branches  to  the  earth,  and  the  mid-day  sun, 
pouring  down  on  it  all,  bedecked  them  with  a  myriad 
jewels. 

The  first  smooth  whiteness  of  the  snowy  slope  had 

3 


4  FELICITY  CROFTON 

been  broken  by  toboggan  runners,  and  a  wide  track 
of  crumpled  snow  to  the  left  of  the  bridge  testified 
to  many  spills.  The  track  was  empty  for  the  mo- 
ment, though  up  at  the  top,  under  the  shadow  of 
the  wide  steps,  two  figures  were  busy  with  a  toboggan. 

There  was  a  man  on  the  ornamental  bridge  below, 
smoking  and  well  content.  He  found  the  keen  air 
pleasant;  he  liked  the  sun,  he  liked  the  snow,  he  liked 
his  own  idleness,  and  very  much  he  liked  his  return 
to  the  scene  of  his  first  introduction  to  his  own  mental 
powers  and  to  the  possibilities  of  friendship  other- 
wise than  that  of  kinship.  Alexander  Fraser,  who 
ruled  in  the  big  house  above  him,  had  proved  a  good 
friend  in  those  early  lonely  days,  and  later  on  a  wise 
mentor.  No  other  man  had  done  so  much  for  him. 
He  was  the  dearest  of  men  to  revisit  Bessington 
reproached  himself  for  the  faint  shade  of  discontent 
which  had  been  his  when  he  had  landed  again  from 
Cape  Town  two  weeks  ago  and  realised  that  after  all 
he  had  no  more  intimate  place  to  spend  the  generous 
vacation  he  intended  to  give  himself  than  his  lonely 
and  long-deserted  chambers  in  the  Temple,  or  Priest's 
Park.  He  had  tried  the  Temple  first,  not  wishing  to 
intrude  too  quickly  on  his  old  master,  but  after  a  day 
or  two's  idle  attempts  to  make  his  old  rooms  habitable 
once  more,  he  had  found  them  a  barren  resting  place, 
and  had  arrived  here  the  previous  evening  to  find  him- 
self at  home! 

It  was  exasperating  to  think  how  little  he  had  appre- 
ciated Mr.  Fraser  in  the  old  days  when  he  had  been 
the  practically  one  guardian  of  his  youth !  Some  such 
thoughts  were  trickling  through  his  mind,  but  his  out- 
ward attention  was  given  to  the  two  figures  at  the 
top  of  the  combe,  who  had  now  arranged  their  sledge 
and  were  at  the  point  of  starting. 

The  little  toboggan  moved,  stuck,  and  then,  with 
a  breathless  rush,  flew  down  on  its  own  track,  ignoring 


FELICITY  CROFTON  5 

those  already  made  for  it.  With  a  rush  it  tore  down 
right  to  the  watcher's  feet,  saw  him,  apparently,  and, 
after  the  manner  of  toboggans,  shied  violently  and 
shot  its  occupants  both  out  into  a  snow  heap  with 
undignified  haste ;  then  it  swung  round  and  pointed  its 
blunt  nose  upwards  towards  its  starting  place. 

Its  two  late  passengers  were  laughing  too  helplessly 
to  help  themselves,  and  Bessington  hastened  to  the  res- 
cue. He  assisted  the  first  to  her  feet.  They  were 
both  of  the  petticoated  sex.  Both  were  radiant  with 
delight  and  enjoyment  of  their  upset.  It  was  not 
till  he  had  helped  the  second  one  out  of  the  snow 
drift,  that  he  realised  that  this  one  at  least  was  quite 
young  and  the  other — well,  he  was  frankly  puzzled ! 

She  was  brushing  the  snow  off  her  dress  and  laugh- 
ing with  the  gaiety  of  a  girl  of  eighteen.  She  was 
slight  to  thinness  and  her  hair  had  a  pretty  wave  in 
it,  but  the  kind,  laughing  eyes  that  met  his  as 
he  looked  up  from  brushing  the  snow  from  the  sec- 
ond adventurer's  dress  were  not  those  of  a  girl. 

"Thank  you  ever  so  much,"  she  said,  with  surpris- 
ing friendliness;  "it  was  all  Veronica's  fault.  She 
steered  so  badly!" 

Veronica  turned  to  him  with  a  little  despairing  ges- 
ture. 

"Isn't  that  too  bad!  You  were  watching1.  Did  I 
steer  badly?" 

He  was  truthfully  able  to  confess  that  they  had 
come  too  fast  for  him  to  judge.  In  any  case  he  was 
too  blinded  by  the  beauty  of  the  girl  to  judge  of 
anything  for  the  moment  but  that  particular  fact. 

Veronica  was  lovely,  just  as  the  day  was  lovely, 
with  its  white  virginity  and  its  sparkling  robe  backed 
by  the  blue  sky.  He  did  not  put  it  to  himself  like 
that :  he  merely  formulated  the  thought  that  here  was 
the  prettiest  girl  he  had  ever  seen. 

The  elder  lady  arranged  her  suede  cap.    "We'll  each 


of  us  try  alone,"  she  announced,  "and  whichever  of  us 
comes  down  without  a  spill  will  have  the  best  of  the 
argument.  Only  you  must  take  your  own  sledge  up. 
Veronica,  unless  Mr.  Bessington  will  do  it  for  you." 

Bessington,  with  his  mind  slightly  reeling  before 
her  assured  use  of  his  name,  was  only  too  pleased. 
He  was  at  grips  with  the  fact  that  he  must  at  least 
have  heard  of  this  lady  before,  though  the  mental 
image  he  had  formed  of  "Mrs.  Crofton"  was  so  pre- 
posterously unlike  the  reality  that  he  could  not  with- 
out dire  confusion  dissentangle  the  label. 

She  seemed  to  guess  his  difficulty.  "I  know  you 
are  Dominic  Bessington,"  she  said,  "because  Alex- 
ander told  me  you  were  coming  last  night.  I  am 
Mrs.  Crofton,  his  sister,  and  this  is  Veronica,  my 
daughter." 

Veronica  extended  her  hand  in  a  friendly  fashion. 

"Come  along,"  was  her  gay  command,  "if  you  are 
really  going  to  be  an  angel.  I  hate  pulling  a  toboggan 
up  this  hill,  and  Madre  won't  do  it  for  me." 

He  obediently  made  an  angel  of  himself  with  a 
good  grace.  She  climbed  the  hill  beside  him,  disre- 
garding its  steepness  and  the  snow  in  a  way  to  prove 
that  her  dislike  for  pulling  up  her  toboggan  was  not 
due  to  physical  disability.  She  went  on  talking  with 
the  easy  friendliness  that  went  to  his  head. 

"Of  course,"  she  was  saying  when  he  became 
poised,  "it's  not  like  Switzerland,  and  I'm  out  of 
practice.  Madre  wouldn't  go  out  there  this  year  be- 
cause of  Uncle  Alexander.  We  have  been  here  three 
years  now,  and  he  has  often  talked  of  you,  but  you 
have  never  come  before." 

Bessington  explained  he  had  been  abroad. 

Most  certainly  he  had  known  that  his  old  master's 
sister  and  niece  had  come  to  live  in  the  little  house 
adjoining  the  college.  He  had  hazy  recollections  con- 
cerning things  he  had  heard  of  these  relations  of  Mr, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  7 

Fraser — vague  impressions  of  a  middle-aged  woman 
in  black  with  a  keen  wit  and  many  theories,  and  a 
daughter  brought  up  on  the  said  theories.  Such  was 
the  mental  image  which  for  inexplicable  reasons  had 
lodged  itself  in  his  brain,  and  until  it  could  be  obliter- 
ated he  must  put  up  with  this  feeling  of  confusion. 

"Madre  is  better  than  I,"  Veronica  confessed ;  "she 
never  loses  her  head.  Still,  it  was  all  your  fault.  I 
did  not  expect  to  see  any  one  there,  and  I  tried  to  see 
who  it  was." 

"I  apologise!  Had  I  know, — no,  had  I  known,  I 
should  have  been  there  all  the  same." 

She  laughed.  It  was  a  most  delightfully  infectious 
little  laugh. 

"They  will  be  all  out  tobogganing  presently,"  she 
told  him,  with  a  glance  at  the  house  above,  "but  Madre 
won't  let  me  come  then.  She  says  I  should  bother 
them.  She  always  insists  that  the  boys  don't  want 
women-kind  always  round  them.  However,  I  couldn't 
come  later,  anyway,  as  I  have  a  singing  lesson." 

By  now  they  had  reached  the  top  of  the  slope,  and 
he  arranged  the  little  sledge  for  her  and  held  it  while 
she  settled  herself  on  it. 

"There's  no  one  but  your  mother  down  there  now," 
he  reminded  her,  "so  you  ought  to  get  down  safely. 
Good  luck!" 

He  started  the  sledge  with  a  vigorous  push,  and 
it  shot  down  with  the  speed  of  three  express  trains 
rolled  into  one,  guided  well  till  just  at  the  end,  when, 
as  far  as  Bessington  could  see,  for  no  reason  or 
just  cause,  it  turned  right  over,  landed  its  occupant  in 
the  convenient  drift,  and  turned  its  supercilious  nose 
upward  again,  challenging  fresh  competition. 

He  ran  down  towards  them  and  met  Mrs.  Crofton 
coming  up,  dragging  the  toboggan,  of  which  he  re- 
lieved her. 

"She  holds  me  to  the  challenge,"  was  her  laugh- 


8 

ing  comment;  "if  I  have  a  spill  it  will  be  bad  for 
authority !" 

"What  made  Miss  Crofton  capsize?" 

"She  waved  her  hands  to  me.  That's  so  like  Veron- 
ica; she  never  keeps  her  attention  quite  fixed  till  the 
end!  How  do  you  think  Alexander  is  looking,  Mr. 
Bessington?  You  know  he  has  been  ill?" 

He  took  surreptitious  glances  at  her  as  they  talked, 
hazarding  mental  guesses  at  her  age,  to  suit  both  the 
exigencies  of  Veronica  and  the  appearance  of  Veron- 
ica's mother,  and  found  it  difficult.  That  older  faulty 
impression,  however,  was  beginning  to  wear  thin.  Mrs. 
Crofton  was  not  middle  aged;  a  decade  separated 
her  from  her  brother,  and  there  was  no  suggestion 
of  a  widow  in  her  dress,  which  was  of  brown,  with 
a  touch  of  blue.  He  remembered  now  the  widow- 
hood dated  from  at  least  seventeen  years  back.  Mr. 
Fraser's  sister  was  likely  to  be  clever,  but  he  might 
have  known  it  would  not  be  the  pedantic  cleverness 
of  the  mere  scholar,  but  rather  the  wide  intelligence 
of  an  open  mind. 

The  fine  lines  of  her  face  just  tended  towards  angu- 
larity, but  the  angle  made  for  health  and  strength  and 
there  was  a  glow  under  her  rather  tanned  skin  and 
a  vigour  in  her  step  and  carriage  that  overrode 
by  at  least  ten  years  the  total  that  Veronica's  exist- 
ence demanded  of  her.  It  was  only  when  her  eyes 
met  his  that  he  clearly  perceived  she  was  a  woman  and 
no  girl.  They  were  so  understanding,  so  brave,  so 
full  of  knowledge.  He  talked  to  her  already  as  to 
one  he  had  known  for  long. 

"I  came  so  late  last  night,"  he  explained,  "that 
I  have  hardly  seen — Mr.  Eraser  yet." 

She  caught  the  faint  little  hesitation  before  the 
name  and  looked  down  with  a  quaint  smile. 

"Don't  you  call  him  Fafner?"  she  asked  innocently, 
"or  is  that  since  your  day?" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  9 

Bessington  laughed. 

"No,  I  believe  I  was  godfather.  He  took  me  to 
hear  Wagner  one  summer  and  that  was  the  net  re- 
sult." 

"It's  very  appropriate.     Now  you  must  start  me." 

He  gave  her  a  send  off  like  Veronica's  and  watched 
her  slide  away  in  the  distance.  Veronica  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  slope  was  dancing  with  excitement  and 
unfilial  hopes  that  her  mother  would  land  in  a  heap 
at  her  feet.  But  Mrs.  Crofton  did  no  such  thing. 
She  adroitly  guided  the  sledge  across  the  track  of 
level  land,  came  to  a  dignified  standstill,  rose,  and 
turned  to  her  daughter  for  approval. 

"That's  very  dull,"  pronounced  Veronica,  "and  you 
have  had  more  practice  than  I  have." 

"I  never  got  on  a  toboggan  till  our  winter  in  Vervey. 
It's  all  a  matter  of  keeping  one's  head.  Your  cap 
is  all  crooked,  child!  Let's  take  Mr.  Bessington  for 
a  walk." 

Veronica  called  out  to  the  latter  as  he  approached 
with  congratulations,  "Madre  says  you  are  to  come 
for  a  walk!" 

He  had  not  the  slightest  objection.  In  the  course 
of  the  walk  Bessington  learnt  that  Mrs.  Crofton  and 
her  daughter  had  lived,  that  is  to  say,  they  had  pos- 
sessed a  house  and  were  not  mere  hotel  sojourners,  in 
France,  Switzerland,  Italy  and  Sweden,  and  that  the 
three  years  spent  here  in  Bath  were  the  longest  sta- 
tionary residence  that  Veronica  remembered.  Appar- 
ently they  went  from  one  to  another  of  their  homes 
as  occasion  or  mood  called  them,  returning  to  Eng- 
land when  the  wish  was  with  them  or  business  de- 
manded. 

"I've  sold  the  little  house  in  Sweden,"  Mrs.  Crofton 
confessed,  with  a  sigh,  "because  I  had  such  a  good 
offer  for  it." 

Veronica  pouted,  "Of  all  the  silly  reasons!" 


io  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"But  you  can't  live  in  five  or  six  houses!"  pro- 
tested Bessington. 

"Not  at  once.  But  five  or  six  houses  to  suit  dif- 
ferent moods  and  weather  are  convenient,  don't  you 
think  ?  I  let  them  when  I'm  not  there.  I  have  always 
wanted  one  in  Spain,  but  Veronica  is  already  so  lazy 
that  I'm  afraid  to  venture." 

Veronica  declared  she  would  not  be  libelled. 

"Where  Madre  really  wants  to  go,"  she  remarked 
confidentially,  "is  to  the  far  end  of  the  Black  Sea. 
She  believes  adventures  lurk  there  in  every  port,  and 
though  she  loves  adventures  she  doesn't  think  I'm  old 
enough  for  them." 

"You  certainly  are  not,  and  you  are  a  dreadful 
tie,"  sighed  her  mother.  "Mr.  Bessington,  please  be- 
lieve I  can  talk  sense  when  this  child  is  not  by." 

"I  am  not  complaining  at  all,  thank  you!"  he  said 
gravely. 

It  might  be  all  very  silly  and  pointless,  but  it  made 
for  good  fellowship. 

Presently  Mrs.  Crofton  surprised  him  again. 

"I  am  so  glad  you  decided  after  all  to  come  back 
to  England — Alexander  is  confident  that  with  your 
fresh  South  African  connection  you  will  do  well. 
After  all  you  are  English,  and  belong  to  the  English 
Bar." 

Bessington,  acutely  aware  he  had  no  one  nearer 
him  than  Mr.  Fraser  to  be  pleased,  was  curiously 
gratified  at  her  interest  and  knowledge  of  his  affairs, 
and  then  wondered  why  he  was  not  displeased.  He 
did  not,  as  a  rule,  take  the  world  into  his  confi- 
dence. 

"I  went  out  there  when  I  was  six,"  he  remarked. 

"And  came  back  when  you  were  sixteen.  And 
Alexander  met  you." 

"Yes,  my  brother  had  written  to  him,  hoping  he 
would  remember  my  father." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  n 

"It  was  your  mother  whom  he  remembered,"  said 
Mrs.  Crofton  softly;  "your  brother  knew  that!" 

Bessington  was  silent.  Again  he  was  debating  why 
he  was  not  displeased. 

"And  your  brother  had,  with  the  best  intention, 
sent  you  to  a  perfectly  beastly  school,  and  Alexander 
took  you  away  and  brought  you  here,  and  here  you 
stayed  till  you  went  to  Oxford — and  then  the  bar — 
You  see,  I  know  all  about  you!" 

"You  at  least  know  how  much  I  owe  your  brother." 

A  little  shadow  fell  on  her  face. 

"You  don't  mind  my  knowing,  do  you?"  she  asked 
wistfully.  "I  think  the  debt  is  still  on  his  side.  He 
loves  all  his  boys,  but  they  all  have  people  of  their 
own,  whereas  with  you  he  could  pretend  you  belonged 
to  him." 

"He  was  the  best  friend  a  boy  or  man  could  have !" 
He  spoke  brusquely,  even  roughly,  and  she  nodded 
and  spoke  of  other  things.  Yet,  later  on,  he  found 
he  had  told  her  more  of  himself — told  her,  for  ex- 
ample, much  of  that  odd  life  of  his  as  a  child  on 
the  veldt,  with  an  invalid  father  who  had  sacrificed 
all  that  had  made  his  life  worth  living  to  him,  clubs, 
friends,  and  London,  to  add  a  few  more  years  to  his 
unduly  shortened  span  and  had  spent  those  few  years 
thus  gained,  in  weary  longing  for  all  he  had  sac- 
rificed. He  had  spoken  of  his  elder  brother,  who  had 
managed  the  farm  ably  enough,  yet  hating  it  as  his 
father  had  hated  it,  and  who,  when  the  hour  of  his 
release  had  come,  was  too  old  to  seek  new  springs 
of  life,  though  he  had  seen  to  it  that  this  younger 
brother  should  escape  back  into  the  civilisation  that 
was  his  birthright. 

She  knew  far  more  than  this — knew  how,  just  when 
he  had  by  happy  chance  and  real  ability  combined, 
got  his  feet  on  the  ladder  of  success,  he  had  been 
back  to  Africa  by  the  brother,  then  dying,  ami 


12  FELICITY  CROFTON 

had  loyally  responded,  and  how  the  past  two  years 
had  been  spent  out  there  unravelling  a  tangle  of  neg- 
lected affairs,  to  the  detriment  of  his  career  at  the 
English  bar.  There  had  been  a  possibility  of  his  stop- 
ping out  there,  of  even  reaping  a  quick  success,  but 
he  hated  South  Africa.  It  meant  to  him  a  land  of 
struggles,  failure,  disappointment,  and  it  had  swal- 
lowed up  the  three  lives  that  were  bound  to  him  by 
blood  and  affection.  In  England  he  had  had  at  least 
friends.  So  he  had  returned,  and  brought  with  him 
a  modicum  of  work  that,  with  luck,  might  again  put 
success  within  reach.  And  she  knew  also  better  than 
he  did,  how  well  Alexander  Fraser  had  remembered 
his  mother,  and  how  much  of  his  generous  affection 
he  had  given  to  her  son.  Her  interest,  indeed,  in 
Dominic  Bessington  had  deep  springs. 

On  their  return  they  passed  the  north  front  of  the 
house,  and  about  half  a  dozen  young  men  were  stand- 
ing on  the  steps  of  the  big  portico.  They  were 
mostly  bare-headed,  and  most  of  them  were  smoking. 
They  all  gave  Bessington's  companions  a  quaint  little 
salute  as  they  passed,  and  Veronica  waved  her  hand 
to  them. 

One  ran  after  them — a  fair-haired  and  extremely 
good-looking  boy  with  a  complexion  that  would  have 
done  credit  to  a  girl. 

"Madre!"  he  cried,  and  she  turned  back. 

"Well,  Eve?" 

The  other  two  went  on.  Bessington  fancied  that 
Mrs.  Crofton  looked  rather  thoughtful  when  she  re- 
joined them. 

"What  did  he  want,  Madre?"  enquired  Veronica, 
as  she  swung  open  the  gate  leading  to  their  own 
grounds. 

"Mark  wants  to  come  to  tea,  and  asked  Eve  to  look 
out  for  us," 


FELICITY  CROFTON  13 

She  seemed  aware  that  Bessington  had  stopped. 

"Come  in,"  she  said  hospitably.  "You  and  Alex- 
ander are  dining  here  to-night,  but  that's  no  reason 
why  you  shouldn't  make  acquaintance  with  the  Haven 
in  daylight." 

"It  used  not  to  be  called  the  Haven." 

"I  rechristened  it.  It  was  called  the  Dell.  It  makes 
a  convenient  headquarters,  because  when  I  am  away 
Alexander  looks  after  it  more  or  less." 

"Madre!" 

"Well,  rather  more  than  less." 

They  crossed  the  terraced  garden,  where  in  sum- 
mer roses  bloomed  in  profusion.  The  snow  had  been 
swept  from  the  paved  walk  right  up  to  the  front  door 
of  the  quaint  little  timbered  house,  which  Bessington 
remembered  as  a  ramshackled  eyesore  to  the  great 
mansion  beside  it.  Some  clever  hand  and  mind  had 
transformed  it  into  a  home  and  a  garden,  and  the  ir- 
regular sloping  fields  that  surrounded  it  into  terraced 
walks,  where  evidently  in  summer  a  prodigious  wealth 
of  flowers  flourished.  The  low  long  windows  to  the 
south  looked  out  over  the  combe  to  the  beautiful  grey 
city  lying  in  her  cradle  of  hills,  placid  and  dream- 
like, with  ever  a  thin  filmy  mist  over  her  face. 

Veronica,  running  on  ahead,  flung  open  the  door 
and  stood  waiting  on  the  threshold  to  drop  them  an 
absurd  little  curtsey  of  welcome,  and  Bessington,  look- 
ing at  her,  was  again  aware  of  strange  breathlessness 
before  her  extreme  loveliness. 

The  house  was  quite  small.  There  was  a  hall  be- 
yond the  porch  which  was  evidently  used  as  a  sitting- 
room,  and  a  room  opening  from  it  which  was  presum- 
ably the  drawing-room,  but  which  Veronica  alluded 
to  as  "Madre's  room."  The  dining-room  was  beyond 
the  hall,  facing  west.  It  was  all  furnished  with  ex- 
treme simplicity,  though  there  was  a  gratifying  supply 
of  books  and  easy  chairs  and  a  general  atmosphere  of 


u 

friendliness.     Bessington  was  glad  they  were  to  dine 
there  that  night. 

He  did  not  stay  long  now — only  long  enough  to 
observe  that  Mrs.  Crofton  shared  her  brother's  taste 
for  beauty  of  rather  an  austere  type,  and  that  Veronica 
had  a  preference  for  subtle  harmonies  of  warm  origin. 
It  was  not  till  long  afterwards  he  took  in  the  fact 
that  there  was  nothing  in  the  house,  either  as  wall 
decorations  or  hangings,  that  was  not  calculated  to  be 
a  suitable  background  for  Veronica  herself.  There 
was  nothing,  however,  austere  about  Veronica. 


II 

Mrs.  Crofton  turned  her  back  on  the  tea  table  and 
sat  gazing  into  the  fire.  The  curtains  were  still  un- 
drawn, and  the  fire  light,  reflected  in  the  little  leaded 
panes,  seemed  an  attempt  to  warm  the  grey,  ghostly 
world  without.  Peace  and  content  and  a  comforting 
sense  of  companionship  pervaded  the  atmosphere,  and 
was  added  to  by  the  faint  scent  of  the  yellow  tulips, 
growing  in  a  bronze  bowl  by  the  window. 

The  other  occupant  of  the  room  was  quite  alive 
to  this  atmosphere,  though  he  would  have  been  at  a 
loss  to  define  it.  He  was  a  tall,  dark  man — or  boy — • 
somewhere  between  twenty  and  twenty-five.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  place  him  exactly.  His  rather  hand- 
some face  was  a  little  less  gloomy  than  it  had  been 
on  his  entrance  fifteen  minutes  ago,  but  he  still  ap- 
peared restless  and  uneasy.  Mrs.  Crofton  turned  her 
kind  eyes  on  him. 

"Well,  Mark?" 

He  gathered  his  long  legs  together  and  went  down 
on  his  knees  to  replenish  a  fire  that  needed  no  attention. 

"I'm  afraid  it's  all  up,"  he  said  a  little  huskily. 
"Fafner  can't  do  with  me  any  longer!" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  15 

"Real  trouble?" 

He  nodded,  playing  absently  with  the  tongs,  then 
suddenly  abandoned  his  pretence,  reseated  himself,  and 
gave  his  head  an  upward  shake  and  met  her  eyes. 

"I  went  down  to  Bath  last  night.  I  had  nothing  to 
do,  and  I  was  frightfully  bored.  I  just  felt  I  must 
do  something.  I  can't  see  what  harm  it  is.  It's  not 
as  if  I  weren't  used  to  looking  after  myself!  Being 
on  my  own !" 

"Any  of  them  with  you?"  she  asked  thoughtfully. 

"Madre!"  There  was  a  fierce  reproach  in  his 
voice. 

"All  right,"  she  returned,  half  laughing;  "don't 
flare — I  know  you  never  drag  the  others  in  with  you ! 
Well,  you  got  found  out  and  Alexander  wasn't 
pleased  ?" 

Mark  laughed  ruefully. 

'No,  he  was — not  pleased!  At  least  he  conveyed 
that  impression.  I  don't  know  how  much  he  meant  it, 
but  he  more  than  hinted  he  had  enough  of  me — that 
I  was  too  old  for  his  flock." 

He  leant  his  chin  on  his  hands  and  gazed  moodily 
into  the  fire  again. 

"You  see  this  is  my  one  and  only  chance.  If  I 
don't  pass  now  it's  all  up.  It  was  a  job  enough  to 
get  here,  and  I  have  worked — even  he  admits  that — • 
and  if  I  get  sent  down — sent  away,  it's  all  wasted — 
the  money,  and  it  took  all  we  know  to  find  it!" 

"We?" 

"My  mother,"  he  pushed  aside  the  footstool  rest- 
lessly. "There's  no  one  else."  There  was  a  queer 
little  sulky  note  of  defiance  in  his  voice  and  he  did 
not  look  at  her. 

Mrs.  Crofton  nodded  comprehendingly. 

"I  see  it  would  be  a  nuisance  for  you.  Are  you 
quite  sure  you  understood  Alexander  rightly?" 

"One's  never  quite  sure  what  he  means.    One's  gen- 


16  FELICITY  CROFTON 

erally  too  battered  to  care  by  the  time  he's  finished. 
Do  you  think  he  does  it  all  deliberately  ?  It's  like  be- 
ing flicked  with  a  whip,  and  one  has  just  to  stand  still 
and  take  it,  and,  by  Jove,  it  does  cut !" 

"No,  no,"  she  interrupted  hastily,  "he  doesn't  know, 
half  the  time!  Alexander  was  always  like  that.  His 
clever  tongue  hurts  so  much  more  than  he  knows  or 
reckons.  Didn't  you  tell  him  what  a — nuisance — • 
it  would  be?" 

"Quite  clearly,  Madre,  you've  never  been  told  off  by 
Fafner  or  you  wouldn't  talk  of  what  one  told  him! 
To  begin  with,  there  isn't  a  chance,  and  secondly, 
when  he's  finished,  one's  so  flattened  out,  one  just 
wants  to  hide  one's  head  in  the  sand."  Then  he  added 
quickly:  "It  wouldn't  hurt  half  as  much  if  one  didn't 
like  him  so  much !" 

"You  do  like  him?" 

Mark  looked  at  her  and  frowned. 

"You  know  we  all  like  him!" 

The  plural  and  the  noncommittal  "like"  disguised 
nothing  from  her.  She,  ineed,  knew  how  they  all 
worshipped  her  brother,  despite  his  sharp  tongue  and 
stern  discipline. 

"He  never  appeared  to  mind  so  much  before,"  went 
on  Mark.  "And  I  am  so  much  older  than  the  rest 
that  I  thought  it  really  was  not  a  great  sin !" 

"You've  done  it  before?" 

He  nodded. 

"How  do  you  go?"  she  asked  with  real  interest. 

"Out  of  the  billiard-room  window,  over  the  chapel 
roof  and  down." 

"Rather  a  big  drop !     Back  the  same  way  ?" 

"Yes." 

Her  eyes  rested  on  his  shapely  hands,  and  a  scraped 
knuckle,  but  she  made  no  comment. 

"I  suppose  Alexander  feels  it's  bad  for  the  others, 
even  if  it  doesn't  hurt  you.  He  does  care  so  fright- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  17 

fully  about  them  all,  you  see.  I  am  sure  he'd  hate 
sending  you  away,  and  I  don't  believe  he  meant  it. 
Still,  you  must  see  it  won't  do.  Suppose  Jim  and 
Eve  and  Ingleside  took  to  going  down  to  Bath  because 
they  were  a  little  older  than  the  others  ?" 

Mark  laughed. 

"Ingleside's  too  fat.    He  couldn't." 

"But  seriously,  dear  boy!  In  justice  to  Fafner" 
— she  put  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

He  did  not  move,  but  kept  singularly  quiet. 

"I  see  it's  a  fool's  trick,"  he  admitted  reluctantly. 
"I  didn't  see  it  at  the  time.  No  doubt  he's  right. 
I'm  a  rotter,  and  no  use  to  any  one !" 

He  laughed  in  an  angry,  uncomfortable  way. 

"Alexander  wouldn't  endorse  that." 

"It's  what  he  said,"  Mark  answered  hoarsely,  "and 
considering  what  my  being  here  means  to  me  and  to 
• — her,  it's  pretty  true." 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  him  as  much !" 

"He  must  know  it.  He  made  it  plain  enough  even 
for  my  dense  head." 

"He  mightn't  have  understood  that  you  were  really 
cut  up  about  it." 

They  both  sat  silent.  Presently  Mark  got  up.  His 
head  was  very  near  the  ceiling  in  the  low  room,  and 
his  face  was  in  shadow. 

"What's  the  use  of  saying  it?" 

"You  might  try." 

"Face  him  again?" 

"He'll  have  forgotten  what  he  said." 

"But  I  haven't" 

"He  ought  to  know  that.  Please  make  him  under- 
stand how  much  you  care.  I  don't  want  to  lose  you, 
nor  does  Eve!" 

"Oh,  Eve!" 

"Well,  aren't  the  two  of  us  together  worth  some 
sacrifice  to  your  pride  ?" 


i8  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"I'm  not  proud !"  he  broke  in  quickly. 

She  smiled  at  him. 

"I  have  at  least  always  believed  you  to  be  truth- 
ful! Listen!  There's  a  motor.  Veronica  has  taken 
a  taxi  back,  extravagant  little  thing!  I  must  send 
a  message  by  the  man  though,  and  order  fresh  tea. 
Shut  the  curtains  for  me,  will  you,  Mark  ?" 

She  was  going  to  the  door  and  he  stopped  her. 

"Madre!" 

She  turned  back  and  patted  his  arm  caressingly. 

"It's  all  right.  I  am  sure  Alexander  will  be  rea- 
sonable." 

He  caught  her  hand  and  kissed  it  awkwardly  and 
with  a  hot  face. 

"I'll  do  it,  Madre." 

Veronica  entered,  bringing  with  her  a  fresh  cur- 
rent of  cold  air. 

"Sitting  in  the  dark,  of  course!  I  can't  see  who  it 
is,  but  it's  obviously  Mark,  so  there'll  be  no  buttered 
toast  left."  She  switched  on  a  light,  and  shook  her 
furs.  "It's  snowing  again.  Do  shut  out  the  horrid 
dark,  Mark!" 

Mrs.  Crofton  went  out  to  send  off  her  message  and 
order  more  toast,  and  Mark  obediently  drew  the  cur- 
tains. 

"If  you  lived  over  there  instead  of  here  you 
wouldn't  be  in  such  a  hurry  to  see  them  drawn,  Veron- 
ica." 

"You  can't  see  these  windows  from  the  college !" 

"Can't  you?" 

"Well,  can  you?" 

"You  told  me  the  other  day  never  to  contradict 
you!" 

She  nodded  gravely.  "Quite  right,  only  you  always 
remember  things  at  the  wrong  moment.  I  had  a 
horrid  drive  up,  so  lonely  without  Madre!  Aren't 
you  going  to  thank  me  for  letting  her  stay?" 


19 

"I  am  grateful  to  her  for  not  going  out,  but  I  am 
quite  positive  you  tried  to  make  her  go!" 

"Of  course  I  did !"  Veronica  opened  her  beautiful 
eyes  widely.  "Wouldn't  you?" 

"I  don't  think  it  would  make  much  difference  what 
we  tried." 

"Well,  you  had  your  way  to-day!" 

"It  was  a  question  which  of  us  wanted  her 
most." 

"That  was  me,"  said  Veronica  swiftly.  "It  always 
is — here's  tea." 

"I  must  go,"  he  rose  regretfully. 

"Buttered  toast  again?"    She  lifted  the  cover. 

He  shook  his  head.    "Not  after  your  insinuations !" 

"It's  a  virtue  to  like  nice  food.  I  share  it  with 
you." 

"No,  I  must  go.     Tell  her  time  was  up,  Veronica." 

She  nodded. 

"It's  dreadfully  cold.  I'm  glad  I  haven't  to  turn 
out  again." 

"You  are  a  sybarite." 

"I'm  a  sensible  being!  Good-bye."  She  looked  at 
him  a  little  questioningly.  Something  must  be  wrong 
or  he  would  not  so  urgently  have  desired  an  interview 
with  her  mother.  But  her  curiosity  flickered  out. 
It  was  useless  and  Veronica  never  wasted  her  forces 
on  useless  efforts. 

Her  mother  found  her  still  at  tea  and  deep  in 
thought  when  she  entered  five  minutes  later. 

"How  did  the  lesson  go  to-day?"  she  asked,  taking 
Mark's  chair.  Veronica  had  the  other — the  one  that 
was  called  Madre's. 

"Tip-top!  I  stood  on  the  tips  of  my  toes  and  got 
the  top  A  for  once.  It  sounded  all  right  when  I  was 
up  there,  but  I  am  under  the  impression  the  effect 
down  below  fell  rather  flat!" 

"You  don't  practice  enough." 


20  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Oh,  Madre!  Just  after  a  lesson!  tret's  talk"  of 
something  really  interesting." 

"For  example?" 

"Shall  I  wear  my  white  dress  to-night  or  the 
maize?" 

"You  call  that  important?" 

"Dreadfully." 

"Alexander  won't  notice." 

"Mr.  Bessington  will." 

"Vanity!" 

"Darlingest  Madre,  I  am  only  anxious  to  do  you 
credit!" 

Mrs.  Crofton  laughed. 

"You  will  have  to  talk  to  Mr.  Bessington  for  a  little 
while  anyhow.  I  have  something  to  say  to  your 
uncle." 

Veronica  assumed  an  anxious  air. 

"Poor  Alexander!    Is  he  very  naughty?" 

"How  many  times  am  I  to  tell  you  not  to  call  him 
Alexander?" 

"Well,  Fafner,  then.    Uncle  is  such  an  ugly  word." 

"It  is  respectful,"  retorted  her  mother  severely. 

Veronica  stroked  her  mother's  hand. 

"It's  the  white  dress,  isn't  it?" 

It  was  in  white  she  eventually  appeared  when  Mrs. 
Crofton,  her  brother,  and  the  visitor  were  discussing 
the  latest  life  of  Stevenson  published  that  month. 
Again  Veronica  found  the  room  in  semi-darkness  and 
switched  on  the  light. 

The  three  turned  to  look  at  her.  She  was  worth 
looking  at,  and  though  she  was  quite  aware  of  it,  it 
was  the  awareness  of  a  child  who  delights  in  pretty 
things  with  an  innocent  vanity  that  has  no  conceit 
in  it.  Her  glistening  hair,  which  had  a  delicious 
curl  in  it,  was  bound  to  her  shapely  little  head  with 
a  black  ribbon.  Her  dazzlingly  fair  complexion  was 


FELICITY  CROFTON  21 

her  only  colour,  and  the  white  dress  was  a  mere  back- 
ground to  her  charms.  Bessington  was  sharply  aware 
again  that  she  was  destined  to  stand  out  in  his  mind 
as  linked  with  snow.  Snow,  with  its  elusive  softness, 
its  easily  spotted  purity,  its  caressing  embrace,  and  its 
exhilarating  coldness.  Mr.  Fraser's  dreamy  face 
quickened  with  interest  as  she  entered. 

"Spoilt  angel !  We  had  to  walk  on  your  mantle  to 
get  here." 

"Only  on  the  teeniest  fringe  of  it  then.  The  path 
was  swept  this  morning."  Mrs.  Crofton  talked  to 
Bessington  and  once  his  eyes  were  withdrawn  from 
Veronica  he  momentarily  forgot  her. 

One  of  the  assets  by  which  Bessington  had  climbed 
so  swiftly  towards  his  legal  success  was  his  belief  in 
a  workable  understanding  of  his  fellow-men,  joined 
to  an  interest  in  them  that  amounted  almost  to  a 
passion.  Now  Mrs.  Crof ton's  personality  somehow 
baffled  this  understanding  of  his.  Her  vitality,  her 
unfeigned  enjoyment  in  small  pleasures  and  jokes  that 
bordered  on  the  infantile  offered  such  a  curious  con- 
trast to  the  sense  of  confidence  and  reliability  she  in- 
spired, that  it  gripped  him  as  something  worth  more 
than  usual  attention. 

The  little  dinner  was  a  success,  as  Mrs.  Crof  ton's 
dinners  always  were.  In  ten  minutes  he  had  forgot- 
ten that  sinister  charge  of  cleverness,  which  still  tin- 
gled in  his  ears,  for  her  cleverness  consisted  in  just 
this,  that  she  made  people  forget  her  general  ability 
in  recognising  their  own!  After  a  time,  they  came 
full  tilt  against  the  subject  of  education  and  he  listened 
with  amazement  to  her  vehement  denunciation  of  the 
modern  estimate  of  it.  Then  she  stopped  abruptly 
and  he  saw  Mr.  Fraser's  eyes  twinkling  and  Veronica's 
pretty  laugh  rang  out. 

"Oh,  Madre,  that's  forbidden!" 

Mrs.  Crofton  apologised  plaintively. 


22  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"It  was  all  your  fault;  you  began  it,  Mr.  Bessing- 
ton,"  declared  Veronica  saucily. 

"I  am  not  repentant.  I  should  like  to  hear  Mrs. 
Crofton's  views." 

"No,  you  wouldn't.  We  shouldn't  have  time  for 
anything  else,"  began  Veronica. 

"Veronica,  you  are  an  impertinent  little  chatterer," 
interposed  her  uncle  with  affected  reproof.  "I  do  not 
like  my  sister  to  talk  of  it  and  lose  her  temper,"  he 
went  on,  turning  to  Bessington,  "because  she  says 
more  than  she  means." 

"That's  a  family  failing,"  Veronica  insisted  de- 
murely. 

Behind  all  his  interest  in  these  people  Bessington 
was  aware  from  time  to  time  of  half  a  dozen  questions 
that  kept  ringing  their  changes  on  his  mind,  such  as, 
what  had  the  deceased  Mr.  Crofton  been  like?  Why 
had  she  never  married  again?  What  after  all  was  her 
age  ?  And,  more  insistent  than  all,  was  there  ever  any 
one  so  beautiful  as  Veronica  out  of  story-book  land? 

Mrs.  Crofton  stopped  her  brother  as  they  moved 
into  the  drawing-room. 

"Alexander,  I  want  you  a  minute." 

He  feigned  an  air  of  resignation  and  sat  down  in 
a  big  chair. 

"I  am  not  the  only  person  who  says  more  than 
they  mean  on  occasions." 

She  spoke  with  diffidence  and  great  gentleness. 

"I  daresay  not.  I  believe  I  do  it  myself  some- 
times. What  is  the  matter,  my  dear?" 

"I  was  wondering  if  you  meant  all  you  said  to 
Mark  to-day." 

Alexander  frowned  ruefully. 

"What  did  I  say  to  him?" 

"He's  very  unhappy." 

"So  he  ought  to  be!"  retorted  her  brother  rather 
hotly  "Pid  he  tell  you  his  crime?" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  23 

"Yes.  Of  course  he  should  have  had  the  sense  to 
see  he  can't  be  allowed  to  break  rules  because  he  is 
older  than  the  others.  It's  not  the  first  time  either, 
you  have  told  him  off  for  it,  is  it?" 

"Told  him  off !  Felicity,  you  are  getting  a  depraved 
woman." 

"Never  mind  my  depravity.  Just  tell  me  what  you 
said  to  Mark  the  last  time  about  his  going  down  to 
Bath?  Did  you  point  out  to  him  then  the  moral  re- 
sponsibility he  incurred?" 

"He's  no  sense  of  it!  I  don't  remember  what  I 
said." 

Mrs.  Crofton  was  silent  a  moment. 

"Do  you  mean  to  send  him  away,  Alexander?" 

Her  brother  stared  at  her. 

"Send  who  away?  Mark?  Good  heavens,  Felicity, 
the  boy's  got  to  go  up  this  year !  What  a  preposterous 
idea!" 

"So  I  thought,  but  you  managed  to  convey  that  to* 
him  this  morning." 

Alexander  fidgeted  uneasily. 

"Nonsense,  Felicity.     Mark  was  having  you  on." 

"Who's  depraved  now!  No,  Alexander,  Mark  was 
never  further  from  joking  in  his  life.  He  really  thinks 
you  are  tired  of  him  and  mean  him  to  go,  and  he's 
perfectly  sick  with  his  own  foolishness." 

"He  didn't  convey  that  impression  to  me." 

"Oh,  my  dear,  when  will  you  learn  that  you  flatten 
out  people  with  that  clever  tongue  of  yours  far  too 
much  for  them  to  have  a  chance  of  conveying  any- 
thing? Mark  had  not  considered  that  he  had  done 
anything  very  heinous  till  you  dropped  on  him  and  I 
don't  suppose  you  did  more  before  than  hint  it  was  not 
advisable  for  him  to  go  down  to  Bath  at  all  hours,  and 
did  not  take  the  trouble  to  let  him  know  you  were 
speaking  sarcastically.  Then  without  further  warn- 
ing on  the  very  next  occasion  you  turn  and  rend  him, 


24  FELICITY  CROFTON 

leaving  him  with  the  impression  he's  no  good  to  you 
or  any  one  else,  and  that  you  can't  have  him  here 
contaminating  your  other  innocent  lambs!" 

"I  never  said  a  word  like  it !"  protested  the  accused. 

She  laughed  gently. 

"No,  that's  the  worst  of  it.  You  conveyed  it  all 
without  using  the  actual  words ;  without  knowing  you 
were  hurting  intolerably  the  more  so  because  Mark — • 
and  you  know  it — adores  you!" 

"Felicity,  do  talk  sense." 

"I  am  trying  to.  I  am  not  defending  Mark.  He 
was  much  in  the  wrong  but  you  ought  to  remember 
your  own  power." 

Fraser  dropped  his  face  on  his  hands  and  sighed. 

"Felicity,  you  are  hard  on  me." 

"Not  a  quarter  as  hard  as  you  are  on  them.  It 
may  be  good  for  some  of  them,  but  I  am  not  sure 
it  is  for  Mark.  He's  an  odd  character." 

He  sat  drumming  his  fingers  on  the  arm  of  the 
chair  and  presently  said  slowly: 

"I  suppose  they  don't  realise  how  I  feel  myself 
involved  with  in  all  their  doings.  It  is  as  if  I  were 
myself  foolish  with  their  foolishness  and  wise  with 
their  wisdom,  proud  with  their  success,  glad  in  their 
joy !  Felicity,  it's  a  magnificent  tiling  to  be  young!" 

Her  eyes  shone  and  there  was  a  slight  tremulous 
movement  of  her  hands  that  meant  much  more  than 
appeared  as  she  turned  to  him. 

"It's  glorious !"  was  her  one  remark,  but  unlike  her 
brother's  words  her  own  carried  no  idea  of  a  glory 
apart  from  herself.  To  her  at  that  moment  it  was 
glorious  to  be  young! 

"Tell  me,"  she  went  on  swiftly,  "what  are  Mark's 
real  chances  of  passing?" 

He  looked  anxious. 

"I  am  afraid  of  his  languages — nothing  else.  He 
ought  to  go  abroad,  but  it's  out  of  the  question,  I 


FELICITY  CROFTON  25 

know."  He  sighed  and  got  up,  walking  up  and  down. 
"It's  hard  lines,  Felicity.  He's  really  a  good  man  for 
the  work.  He's  a  worker  and  he  has  ambition,  and 
he's  set  on  India,  but  it's  money  that's  hampering 
him  or  the  lack  of  it.  He  has  a  chance  and  a  good 
one,  but  if  he  fails  it  will  be  that.  He  ought  to  go 
abroad  again  to  get  rubbed  up.  I'd  send  him  myself 
but—" 

He  did  not  finish. 

Felicity  knew  well  he  had  already  done  as  much  for 
Mark  Forrester  as  Mark  could  or  would  accept. 

"If  he  had  any  interest  and  could  get  a  job  out 
there  direct  he'd  be  sure  to  do  well.  He's  the  kind, 
but  he  has  no  influence  at  all." 

"A  job  under  some  high  official  in  India?" 

"Yes.  There  are  just  a  few  appointments  made  like 
that  you  know." 

"Are  there?    We  must  see." 

Her  brother  looked  at  her  with  kindly  curiosity. 
He  knew  there  were  possibilities  if  she  cared  to  move. 
He  wondered  if  she  would. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Dominic?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  wonder  at  your  partiality.  I  used  to  be  a 
bit  jealous  for  the  boys  whom  I  knew  better.  Still 
it's  hard  to  know  why  he's  so  delightful." 

"It's  his  amazing  interest  in  one.  Real  interest, 
not  assumed.  He  is  not  wanting  to  talk  about  him- 
self when  he's  politely  listening  to  you.  He's  genu- 
inely absorbed  in  what  you  are  saying." 

"Or  in  what  he's  thinking  of  you!  Well,  let's  go 
in  to  them.  Veronica  may  be  boring  him." 

Mr.  Fraser  gave  her  a  quick  glance.  She  was  not 
smiling.  It  would  never  have  occurred  to  him  that 
Veronica  could  bore  any  one — but  then  he  set  an 
exaggerated  value  on  his  niece. 

Veronica  and  Bessington  had  not  been  bored  in  the 
least.  They  had  found  their  way  to  the  piano.  Bess- 


26  FELICITY  CROFTON 

ington  did  not  sing,  but  he  could  play  accompaniments 
decently,  and  though  Veronica  refused  to  sing  seri- 
ously they  ran  through  scraps  of  operas  and  then 
lighting  on  a  book  of  Harrow  songs  enjoyed  those. 
Bessington  had,  indeed,  no  clear  knowledge  of  what 
he  played  or  she  sang.  He  had  only  a  mazed  sense  of 
a  golden  net  and  a  golden  voice  and  a  new  disturb- 
ing feeling  within  himself. 


m 

Bessington,  in  his  habit  of  regarding  his  fellow  be- 
ings as  conundrums  of  inexhaustible  interest,  had  not 
limited  himself  to  the  study  of  men.  At  the  same 
time,  his  experiences  with  women  had  been  both  limit- 
ed and  non-conclusive,  and  his  understanding  had  been 
led  astray  more  than  once.  Disappointment  had,  how- 
ever, added  zest  to  his  seeking,  and  he  had  in  turn 
been  interested,  dominated,  and  fascinated  by  the  ex- 
citement of  his  study,  but  so  far  he  never  had  the 
illuminating  experience  of  "falling  in  love."  Indeed, 
he  had  never  lost  control  of  that  level  head  of  his. 
Yet  if  his  dealings  with  women  had  been  thus  sane 
and  balanced,  not  the  least  point  of  their  sanity  was 
the  fact  that  he  himself  knew  he  had  never  been 
in  love.  "I  shall  cease  to  be  reasonable,  or  to  be  able 
to  judge  when  I  am,"  he  told  himself.  He  regarded 
that  as  the  sure  sign  by  which  he  would  know  he  was 
not  deceived.  And  since  it  was  to  be  no  matter  of 
logical  sequence,  he  wasted  no  time  pondering  over 
the  possible  features  of  "she  who  was  to  come,"  and 
meanwhile  had  found  life  full  of  other  interests  and 
the  world  a  storehouse  of  surprising  souls. 

When  he  walked  home  with  Mr.  Fraser  that  night 
through  the  snowy  garden,  he  was  still  too  enmeshed 
in  the  net  of  unreason  to  know  himself  entangled.  Mr. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  27 

Fraser  spoke  of  his  sister  and  hardly  mentioned  Ve- 
ronica. Bessington  was  quite  content  to  talk  about 
Mrs.  Crofton  and  undeniably  interested  in  her,  and  he 
did  not  in  the  least  want  to  talk  about  Veronica,  be- 
cause he  would  have  nothing  to  say  if  he  had  at- 
tempted to  do  so.  He  did  not  even  want  to  understand 
her,  but  he  did  most  assuredly  want  to  see  her  again. 

Mr.  Fraser  seemed  naively  anxious  for  his  old 
pupil's  appreciation  of  Mrs.  Crofton,  and  there  was  a 
little  touch  of  eager  affection  in  his  voice  that  was 
rather  a  revelation  to  Bessington. 

"My  sister  is  rather  a  remarkable  woman,  I  think," 
he  began;  "she  has  had  the  courage  to  mark  out  a 
line  for  herself  and  to  follow  it.  I  am  afraid  she 
rather  scandalises  some  people,  but  I  am  bound  to  say 
that  if  getting  as  much  joy  as  is  possible  out  of  life, 
and  giving  pleasure  and  help  to  others  in  great  meas- 
ure, constitutes  happiness,  then  Felicity  is  a  successful 
woman." 

Bessington  said  she  looked  a  happy  woman. 

"And  she  really  has  a  steady  head  on  her  shoulders," 
insisted  Mr.  Fraser  as  if  it  were  a  fact  he  had  had  to 
insist  on,  in  the  past.  "She  can  pilot  people  through 
the  most  troublesome  waters  and  earn  their  gratitude ; 
which  is  more  than  that  type  of  pilot  usually  earns! 
I  confess,"  he  added  with  a  little  sigh,  "that  her 
methods  are  not  always  conventional,  but  they  seem 
to  render  people  happier  in  the  end.  There  was  one 
case  where  she  prevented  a  divorce  which  every  one 
said  should  be  carried  through  in  the  interests  of 
morality." 

"What  was  the  result?"  asked  Bessington  curi- 
ously. 

"The  couple  are  absurdly  happy  now  and  he  is  a 
reformed  character.  She  does  things  like  that — 
touches  things  other  people  would  fear  to  look  at. 
Then  with  my  boys "  He  paused. 


28  FELICITY  CROFTON 

They  were  under  the  big  portico  now  and  stood 
still  a  moment  to  look  at  the  inverted  heaven  that 
twinkled  away  down  in  the  velvety  blackness  below 
them. 

"People  blamed  her  a  great  deal,"  said  Mr.  Fraser 
abruptly,  "for  settling  here  with  Veronica.  I  own  I 
was  not  quite  happy  about  it  myself  at  first.  But 
Felicity  only  said  she  was  not  bringing  Veronica 
up  to  live  in  a  convent  but  in  a  world  of  men  and 
women,  and  the  sooner  she  learnt  her  way  about  it 
the  better,  and  that  if  she  were  to  lock  her  up  in 
prison,  she  would  still  fall  in  love  when  her  hour 
came,  without  the  advantages  of  any  measure  by  which 
to  gauge  her  lover.  Sometimes  I  think  it's  rather  hard 
on  my  boys.  They  do  fall  in  love  with  her,  but  Felicity 
seems  to  smooth  it  out  all  right,  and  of  course  Veron- 
ica is  still  only  a  child." 

Bessington  agreed.  He  found  nothing  else  to  say 
on  the  subject  of  Veronica. 


IV 

The  next  day  they  all  skated  on  the  ornamental 
water  at  the  bottom  of  the  combe.  Alexander's 
twenty  pupils  and  some  of  the  masters,  the  visitor 
and  the  Croftons. 

Mrs.  Crofton  skated  well,  as  she  did  everything 
she  undertook,  but  Veronica  skated  even  better.  She 
sped  in  and  out  amongst  them,  bestowing  greetings  and 
smiles  with  fine  impartiality,  but  even  Bessington's 
keen  eyes  could  detect  no  sign  of  favour,  nothing  but 
the  frank,  good  comradeship  of  a  happy  girl,  with  a 
big  family  of  brothers.  Her  happiness  was  as  exhil- 
arating as  the  air.  He  skated  with  her  and  remem- 
bered nothing  of  all  they  talked  about,  except  that 
they  laughed  a  great  deal  and  her  little  sallies  of  wit 


FELICITY  CROFTON  29 

had  a  spontaneity  that  reminded  him  of  twinkling 
stars. 

Presently  he  skated  with  Mrs.  Crofton  and  of 
their  conversation  he  could  remember  every  word. 
They  were  joined  later  by  the  fair-haired  boy  with 
the  girlish  complexion.  Mrs.  Crofton  introduced  him 
to  Bessington. 

"I  know  Alexander  leaves  his  guests  to  pick  up 
names  as  they  can,"  she  said.  "You  two  have  prob- 
ably met,  but  I  am  sure  no  one  has  told  you  that  Eve's 
name  is  really  Adam  Preston.  I  daresay  he  has 
nearly  forgotten  it  himself.  He  remembers  it  at  the 
beginning  of  term  for  about  a  week,  isn't  it,  Eve?" 

"I  forget  it  as  soon  as  you  remember  to  ask  me 
to  tea,"  retorted  Eve,  gazing  steadily  in  front  of  him. 

"Since  when  has  it  been  necessary  to  send  you  an 
invitation?"  she  asked  blandly,  and  he  laughed. 

Veronica  sped  up  to  them,  caught  at  Eve's  arm  to 
stop  herself,  and  spun  round  him.  He  steadied  her 
carefully  with  a  tolerant  indulgence. 

"Eve  complains  he  has  not  been  asked  to  tea  this 
term,"  began  Mrs.  Crofton. 

"He  must  have  something  on  his  conscience,"  re- 
torted Veronica. 

"I've  not.  I've  behaved  myself  with  extreme  pro- 
priety." 

"Not  all  the  vacation.    No  one  could  do  that." 

"I  did.     Ask  Mark." 

"Oh,  Mark's  prejudiced!" 

"And  why  Mark?"  asked  Mrs.  Crofton. 

"I  stayed  with  him  some  of  the  time,"  Eve  triexl 
to  speak  offhandedly. 

"Why  didn't  he  stay  with  you?  You  would  have 
had  a  better  time," — this  from  Veronica. 

"Veronica!" 

"I  only  meant  that  Mark  hasn't  any  hunting  or 
shooting  or " 


"We  all  know  what  you  meant,  child.  Don't  make 
matters  worse  by  explaining !"  laughed  her  mother. 

Veronica  whizzed  round  on  her  skates  to  Bessing- 
ton. 

"Take  me  away,"  she  cried ;  "they  are  all  very  un- 
kind. They  won't  let  me  talk!" 

Bessington  commiserated  her  and  they  skated 
off. 

"Mark  must  have  been  very  glad  to  have  you," 
said  Mrs.  Crofton,  as  Eve  seated  himself  on  the 
bank  beside  her  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

"I  was  glad.  I  suppose,  Madre,  he's  sure  to  pass 
this  summer?  His  mother  and  sister  will  be  hor- 
ribly disappointed  if  he  doesn't." 

Mrs.  Crofton  did  not  answer  at  once.  She  was 
weighing  another  question  in  her  mind. 

"I  should  say  he  was  certain.  Is  his  sister  like 
him?" 

"Not  in  the  least,"  returned  Eve  quickly.  "She's 
fond  of  books  and  poetry  and  art  and  things  like  that. 
I  think  she  has  a  bad  time  somehow,  and  she  looks 
delicate."  He  paused  to  examine  his  cigarette.  "She 
is  awfully  good  looking." 

"Younger  than  Mark?" 

"Three  years  younger,  I  think.  She's  been  abroad 
for  some  time.  That's  why  Mark  couldn't  come  to 
me.  His  mother  thought  he  ought  to  be  home  with 
Miss  Forrester." 

"Yes,  naturally,""  Mrs.  Crofton  agreed  thoughtfully, 
and  then  wondered  if  it  were  natural. 

She  heard  more  about  Miss  Forrester  before  Eve 
left  her.  Miss  Forrester  adored  Swinburne  and  Wag- 
ner. Eve  did  not  seem  very  clear  whether  the  last 
was  a  "theatre  person"  or  a  poet  or  a  musician.  She 
had  read  a  lot  of  philosophy  and  had  wonderful  ideas 
about  things. 

"So  you  did  not  find  much  in  common?"  enquired 


FELICITY  CROFTON  31 

Mrs.  Crofton,  with  a  demure  little  downward  glance 
that  brought  out  a  likeness  of  Veronica. 

"One  doesn't  always  have  to  like  the  same  things 
to  get  on  with  people,"  returned  Eve  rather  vaguely. 
"She  didn't  mind  about  my  not  knowing  about  her 
sort  of  things." 

Now  Eve  was  a  good  specimen  of  an  outdoor  young 
Englishman  with  rather  rigid  ideas  of  his  own  on 
some  subjects  which  he  kept  to  himself  as  a  rule,  and 
he  was  the  only  child  of  extremely  wealthy  and  de- 
voted parents.  Also  he  was  Mrs.  Crof  ton's  very  spe- 
cial protege  and  she  found  herself  wishing  she  had  not 
lived  so  long  in  ignorance  of  the  existence  of  another 
protege's  sister.  Still  for  the  time  she  abandoned  the 
subject. 

"Why  haven't  you  been  over  to  see  me,  Eve?" 

"I  don't  want  to  be  a  nuisance — I  was  in  and  out 
all  last  term." 

"Yes,  I  like  it — you  know  it." 

Her  voice  was  reproachful. 

"But  suppose  they  all  did  it?" 

"They  don't.     You  are  different." 

He  looked  just  a  shade  embarrassed,  then  laughed. 

"The  mater  said  I  shouldn't  take  advantage  of  your 
kindness — I  told  her  that  was  all  rot — still !" 

She  looked  away.  She  could  never  quite  suppress 
a  twinge  of  envy  when  she  thought  of  Eve's  mother. 

"Your  mother  does  not  know  how  nice  it  is  to 
pretend  that  some  one  of  you  all  has  a  right  to  come 
in  and  out  as  he  will." 

"I'll  come — Madre,  there's  that  beastly  exam  be- 
fore me  this  year!"  he  groaned. 

Mrs.  Crofton  felt  confident  he  would  not  have  con- 
fided his  detestation  of  exams  to  his  mother.  She 
expressed  some  scorn  and  amusement  at  his  attitude 
and  told  him  to  come  and  help  her  make  out  a  list 
for  Mudie/s  that  night  after  work, 


32  FELICITY  CROFTON 

When  Mark  arrived  at  her  side  a  little  later  Mrs. 
Crofton  found  she  had  something  to  say  to  him. 

Mark  Forrester  was  older  than  the  run  of  Mr.  Fra- 
ser's  pupils,  who  were  nearly  all  candidates  for 
Sandhurst,  but  Forrester  had  set  his  heart  on  the  In- 
dian Civil  Service.  His  slender  resources  could  not 
run  to  London  and  Scoones  and  it  would  be  by  sheer 
weight  of  ability  if  he  passed  from  a  local  crammer; 
but  Mr.  Fraser  held  high  hopes  of  his  success  and  had 
spared  no  pains. 

Mark  said  nothing  of  their  discussion  of  the  pre- 
vious day.  He  could  talk  well  and  even  brilliantly 
when  so  inclined,  though  in  a  manner  which  left  his 
hearers  singularly  unenlightened  as  to  his  real  opinions 
of  things  in  general.  Mrs.  Crofton  allowed  herself 
to  be  amused  for  a  short  time  and  then  said : 

"How  long  have  you  been  here,  Mark  ?" 

"Eight  months  and  three  weeks,"  he  answered 
promptly. 

"And  all  that  time  you  never  told  me  you  had  a 
sister!" 

He  gave  an  odd  little  laugh  and  replied  carelessly : 

"She's  been  abroad  for  over  a  year.  Her  name  is 
Stella  and  she's  three  years  younger  than  I  am.  So 
now  you  have  made  up  for  lost  time." 

"Well,  I  am  interested  in  her." 

"What's  Eve  been  saying?" — he  frowned  a  little. 
"There's  nothing  very  interesting  about  Stella,  all  the 
same.  She  likes  reading  and  poetry  and  obtuse  sub- 
jects." 

"We  should  have  tastes  in  common." 

"Oh,  not  in  your  way,"  Mark  answered  hastily. 
"She  likes  things  differently.  I'm  not  good  at  ex- 
plaining, but  she  likes  rather  depressing  things  just 

because  they  are  depressing,  not "  He  came  to  a 

stand  again. 

"Go  on;  you  are  advancing." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  33 

"I  am  not.  And  I'm  afraid  I  don't  get  on  very 
well  with  Stella,  I  should  give  you  a  false  impression. 
No  doubt  it's  my  fault.  We  like  different  sorts  of 
things.  Madre,  it's  all  right  about  Fafner.  He 
doesn't  mean  me  to  go." 

"I  thought  you  had  misunderstood  him." 

Clearly  Mark  was  not  to  be  drawn  on  the  subject 
of  his  sister.  She  was  still  dissatisfied  and  puzzled. 
Eve  was  so  clearly  interested  and  yet  from  Mark's 
description  Miss  Forrester  sounded  the  last  person  in 
the  world  to  attract  him.  Perhaps,  after  all,  she  was 
worrying  herself  unnecessarily.  Eve  was  not  an  in- 
flammable boy. 

She  watched  him,  presently,  cutting  new  figures  on 
the  ice.  He  mustn't  make  a  mistake  over  his  future. 
She  felt  her  whole  heart  throb  with  a  fierce  sense 
of  protective  right,  that  was  at  once  unreasonable  and 
out  of  order.  She  had  nothing  to  set  against  it  ex- 
cept her  knowledge  of  life  and  her  lack  of  knowledge 
of  Mark's  women  kind.  Mark  himself  was,  of  course, 
beyond  suspicion. 

In  the  end  she  took  herself  severely  to  task  for 
entertaining  unwarrantable  suspicions  and  sandwiched 
this  in,  with  the  fixed  intention  of  taking  the  first  op- 
portunity that  presented  itself  of  making  friends  with 
Mark's  sister. 

"It's  just  as  well,  perhaps,  that  I  haven't  got  a  son," 
she  confessed  to  herself  a  little  wistfully.  "It  requires 
so  much  more  nerve  than  a  daughter." 


On  the  higher  ground  behind  the  House  was  the 
cricket-field,  and  in  front  of  a  little  sheltering  wood 
stood  the  pavilion,  a  new  wooden  erection  with  a  roof 
thatched  with  faggots,  built  the  preceding  summer. 


34  FELICITY  CROFTON 

A  stone  wall  in  the  rear  separated  this  from  some 
fields  and  a  large  cow  byre.  The  cricket  patch  was 
a  sheet  of  snowy  whiteness,  only  before  the  pavilion 
there  was  a  trampled  path,  for  the  sunny  verandah 
was  a  pleasant  loitering  place  when  time  hung  heavy 
on  hand,  even  in  winter. 

Half  a  dozen  young  men  and  Malby,  the  modern 
history  master,  were  gathered  there.  The  six  were 
sitting  or  lounging  about  the  palings,  and  Malby  was 
now  standing  in  the  entrance,  now  walking  rapidly 
up  and  down,  detailing  with  dramatic  vigour  an  ac- 
count of  a  certain  fight  in  the  Italian  war  of  inde- 
pendence. 

It  was  always  considered  a  great  and  legitimate 
game  to  "draw  old  Malby."  His  enthusiasm  for  his 
subject  knew  no  bounds  of  place  or  time,  and  his  fer- 
voured  imagination  and  grasp  of  detail  would  seize 
hold  of  the  smallest  thread  to  concoct  living,  vivid 
pictures  that  had  a  trick  of  sticking  in  the  memory  of 
his  hearers. 

For  this  purpose  the  pavilion  was  for  the  nonce 
a  fortress  held  by  the  Austrians,  to  which,  under  a 
starlight  night,  the  enemy  were  advancing — creeping 
silently  up  under  cover  of  the  wall! 

"About  as  far  away  as  the  corner  over  there," 
stammered  Mr.  Malby  in  his  quick,  hurried  little 
voice,  "they  divided  into  two  parties,  and  all  in  a 
silence  that  was  as  profound  as  night.  Those  who 
were  advancing  across  the  open — in  the  shadow  of 
those  trees,  as  it  were — carried  straw  in  bundles  and 
faggots  bound  with  tow  and  those  who  continued  to 
creep  nearer  under  the  shadow  of  the  wall, — over 
there" — he  wheeled  around  sharply,  extending  an 
explanatory  finger — "had  only  their  weapons  and  their 
approach  was  even  slower  and  more  silent,  than  that 
of  the  others!  In  the  fort  itself," — he  wheeled 
round,  fronted  the  pavilion — "all  was  quiet. .  They 


35 

had  no  reason  to  suspect  the  enemy  were  anywhere 
in  their  neighbourhood,  thought  them,  indeed,  as  wan- 
dering fugitives,  lost  on  the  mountains  yonder.  The 
solitary  sentry," — with  a  sharp  twist  towards  the 
snowy  expanse  before  them — "reached  the  end  of  his 
beat,  perhaps  as  far  off  as  the  gate  there," — one 
nervous  hand  jerked  the  red  tie  he  wore  from  its 
discreet  repose  and  dragged  it  into  a  shapeless  knot. 
"Then  as  he  turned,  death,  swift  and  sure,  leapt  on 
him  out  of  silence  and  darkness.  Figures  scudded 
through  the  night  and  the  faggots  and  straw  were 
flung  down  about  a  hundred  yards  from  the  fortress 
gates,  were  fired,  were  ablaze  in  two  seconds,  and  the 
first  sound  that  roused  the  little  garrison  was  the 
crackling  flames  and  the  dense  smoke  which  hid  for 
a  moment  the  waiting  enemy.  Only  for  a  moment, 
then  the  garrison  rushed  out  and  over  the  burning 
wood  and  straw  there  was  a  hand-to-hand  fight.  One 
man,  writing  after  of  it,  said  the  grim,  dreadful  silence 
of  the  men  was  the  worst."  He  strode  up  and  down 
again,  his  fingers  still  restlessly  engaged  at  the  twisted 
tie,  then  stopped  and  took  up  his  song.  "All  the  gar- 
rison had  rushed  out,  you  understand,  for  the  fire 
must  be  fought  as  well  as  the  enemy,  and  the  ragged 
crew  across  the  flaming  barrier  had  poor  chance — • 
but  as  much  as  they  wanted ;  for  meanwhile  the  sec- 
ond party — do  you  remember  they  divided? — • 
reached  the  back  of  the  extemporised  fortress  and  a 
triumphant  cry  drowned  even  the  fire's  roar  as  they 
took  possession  of  the  now  empty  building  that  was 
the  key  to  their  central  advance.  In  an  instant  every 
window  and  door  was  manned,  and  the  Austrians 
were  caught  between  the  ridge  of  fire  without  and 
the  fusillade  from  within.  They  all  fell,  with  two 
exceptions,  but  that  force  across  the  barrier  was  rid- 
dled also  by  their  friend's  fire — as  they  knew  must 
happen — only  two  escaped  of  them."  He  jerked  his 


36  FELICITY  CROFTON 

head  sharply  and  the  excitement  dropped  from  his 
voice  as  suddenly  as  it  had  sprang  there. 

"When  the  morning  came  they  buried  friend  and 
foe  under  the  eastern  wall,  and  there's  a  tablet  there 
now  with  a  bald  account  of  it  all." 

Something  in  Malby's  clear  vision  and  unexpressed 
admiration  for  his  subject  defeated  his  jerky  utter- 
ances and  wild  gesticulations.  He  drew  their  eyes 
here,  there,  everywhere,  to  invisible  things  that  seemed 
part  of  the  landscape  to  him,  and  this  in  spite  of 
themselves!  For  it  was  strictly  "de  rigeur"  to  simu- 
late resistance  to  his  imperative  demands  on  their 
imagination,  and  to  refuse  to  follow  that  directing 
finger  and  compelling  look — as  long  as  they  could. 
Even  Adam  Preston,  who  had  the  reputation  of  being 
able  to  sit  with  unmoved  eyes  and  unturned  head 
through  the  most  passionate  discourse,  was  caught  once 
to-day  by  a  peremptory  command  to  see  the  figures 
approaching  in  the  dark,  along  under  the  wall. 

The  boy  who  sat  next  to  him  saw  it,  and  had  held 
out  his  hand  silently  and  Adam  with  a  rueful  grin 
had  produced  half  a  sovereign  and  handed  it  over. 
The  amount  of  a  standing  bet  on  the  event ! 

"That's  how  it  all  was,"  said  Malby,  abruptly  striv- 
ing to  replace  his  tie.  "They  did  what  they  were  told 
to  do — I  say,  you  fellows,  I  hope  I  didn't  bore  you 
with  an  extra  'out-of-time'  lecture?" 

"Jolly  good  one,"  murmured  James  Streeter,  known 
to  the  masters  as  "that  young  devil  Jim."  "If  fight- 
ing were  like  that  now  it  would  be  a  good  sight  better 
worth  while  facing  exams." 

Malby  smiled  deprecatingly  behind  his  glasses. 

"You  could  have  gone  away,"  he  suggested  a  little 
wistfully. 

"But  we  didn't,"  said  Eve  stolidly. 

"We  remembered  'Manners  maketh  man,'  "  put  in 
a  third. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  37 

Malby  was  a  Wykehamite  and  was  never  allowed 
to  forget  it  on  account  of  his  having  once  quoted  that 
much  abused  motto  to  his  class. 

He  still  looked  troubled,  and  Eve  said: 

"It's  all  right,  sir.  We  all  liked  it.  They  are  only 
having  you  on." 

Malby  went  away,  gratified  and  happy.  When  he 
had  gone  they  discussed  the  affair  impartially.  They 
were  old  enough  to  appreciate  the  heroism  of  it,  and 
young  enough  to  rejoice  in  the  daring  of  it  and  to 
enjoy  the  illusion  he  had  created. 

"What  a  lark  it  would  be,"  said  Jim,  to  whom  in- 
action was  ever  repugnant,  "to  divide  forces  and  make 
Old  Malby  sit  up  by  showing  him  how  much  better 
the  attack  might  have  been  warded  off." 

"Or  to  do  it  just  as  it  was,"  suggested  another,  "fire, 
faggots  and  all,  from  the  yard  down  there.  I  bet 
you  anything  you  like  we'll  smoke  you  out  in  double 
quick  time." 

"There's  O'Brian,"  said  Eve;  "let's  hear  what  he 
has  to  say." 

O'Brian  was  another  irrepressible  whose  attempt  to 
scale  the  fastness  of  Sandhurst  had  met  with  poor  en- 
couragement from  the  authorities.  He  sat  down  and 
listened  to  what  they  had  to  say. 

VI 

"Unless  my  memory  plays  me  false  or  times  have 
sadly  changed,"  said  Bessington,  three  days  later  to 
Mrs.  Crofton,  "there's  something  up  to-night.  The 
unparalleled  good  behaviour  in  hall  could  mean  noth- 
ing else  than — fun!" 

"I  was  afraid  you  were  going  to  say  mischief !" 

"I'm  only  six  years  or  so  behind  it  all,"  he  laughed. 

"Sometimes  a  year's  enough!  Did  the  fun  ever 
do  you  any  harm?" 


38  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Most  instructive  school  in  the  world !" 

"That's  what  I  think,  and  am  always  telling  Alex- 
ander. In  the  main,  he  agrees — but  says  the  parents 
don't.  They  are  often  very  stupid.  It's  a  good  thing 
they  don't  know  all — the  fun!  What  is  this,  spe- 
cially?" 

"Madre's  simply  longing  to  take  part  in  it!"  de- 
clared Veronica  gravely.  "Do  tell  her  at  once  that 
she  can't,  Mr.  Bessington." 

"I  think  it's  something  up  at  the  pavilion,  but  I'm 
not  sure." 

"Mark's  coming  in  presently,  perhaps  he'll  know." 

Mrs.  Crofton  went  to  the  window  and  looked  out. 
The  weather  was  on  the  change.  A  wind  had  sprung 
up  and  had  blown  the  snow  from  the  trees  and  was 
tossing  the  bare  branches  fitfully.  Overhead  the  stars 
shone  through  the  trailing,  torn  clouds.  There  was 
something  restless  and  uncomfortable  in  the  air.  The 
green  gate  at  the  end  of  the  garden  walk  was  flung 
open  and  Mark's  tall  figure  came  striding  up  the  path 
towards  the  little  gleam  of  light.  Mrs.  Crofton 
dropped  the  curtains  and  went  to  the  door. 

A  qualm  of  jealousy  crossed  Forrester's  mind  as  he 
saw  Bessington  ensconced  in  the  particular  chair  that 
was  his.  However,  Bessington  was  talking  to  Veron- 
ica to-night  and  not  to  Mrs.  Crofton,  which  was  com- 
forting. 

"Mr.  Bessington  tells  me  there  is  something  going 
on  to-night,  Mark.  Aren't  you  in  it  ?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"Is  it  likely  I'll  be  in  anything  after  last  Tuesday? 
It's  Malby's  fault  anyhow.  He's  inspired  them  to  act 
some  scene  in  Italian  history.  At  least  I  saw  Eve 
with  King's  history  in  his  hands  and  it's  not  likely  to 
have  been  there  for  any  more  legitimate  purpose. 
Some  little  fortress  business,  where  they  burnt  out  the 
Austrians?" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  39 

"Surely,  they  aren't  going  to  act  it  realistically?" 

"O'Brian  and  Jim  are  in  it,"  he  returned  ambigu- 
ously. 

Mrs.  Crofton  sprang  up. 

"Let's  all  go  out  and  see  what  they  are  doing!" 
she  cried. 

"It's  a  beastly  night — "  began  Mark. 

But  there  was  no  gainsaying  her.  Her  quick  mind 
had  seen  possibilities.  She  wanted  to  be  there.  Bess- 
ington  himself  felt  infected  by  her  interest,  but  thought 
it  right  to  back  Mark's  remark  about  the  night. 

"We  can  get  into  suitable  clothes  in  three  minutes," 
she  declared.  "Come  along,  Veronica." 

Veronica  demurred  a  little  at  the  trouble,  though 
she  had  no  intention  of  being  left  out  of  any  fun  that 
was  going.  In  less  than  ten  minutes  the  two  re- 
appeared in  short  skirts  and  thick  coats  and  the  four 
of  them  went  out.  At  the  back  of  the  Haven  a  wood 
protected  it  from  the  north  and  through  this  a  path 
wound  steeply  up  to  the  playing  fields,  coming  out 
nearly  opposite  the  pavilion.  It  was  an  eery,  wild 
night  and  the  scene  that  met  their  eyes  as  they 
emerged  from  the  dark  wood  was  weird  enough  for 
its  setting.  There  on  the  far  side  of  the  snowy  waste 
stood  the  pavilion,  and  before  it  burned  a  flaring  hedge 
of  fire,  across  which  sundry  forms  appeared  locked 
in  a  deadly  struggle.  The  wind  was  blowing  the 
smoke  right  into  the  pavilion,  the  holders  of  which 
seemed  all  engaged  in  desperate  efforts  to  extinguish 
the  blazing  faggots  with  the  help  of  snow  and  sticks, 
but,  aided  by  the  puffs  of  smoke  which  from  moment 
to  moment  obliged  the  defendants  to  rush  back  for 
air,  the  attacking  party  were  continually  able  to 
fling  more  fuel  on  the  fire.  Here  and  there  a  hand- 
to-hand  struggle  was  in  process  and  the  oddest  thing 
about  it  was  that  the  mischief  workers  maintained 
an  amazing  silence.  It  had  been  decreed  that  a  cry 


40  FELICITY  CROFTON 

or  even  a  word  spoken  aloud  should  render  the  utterer 
a  prisoner. 

"Oh,  what  mad  children  they  are!"  murmured  Mrs. 
Crofton,  partly  laughing,  partly  gleeful  and  wholly 
ready  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  game  and  play 
"Jessie  Mario"  at  need  to  their  young  Italy. 

"They'll  end  in  getting  burnt,"  said  Veronica  se- 
renely, "and  it  will  be  all  Mr.  Malby's  fault.  He 
ought  to  be  talked  to  by  Uncle  Fafner." 

"Don't  be  so  heartless,  Veronica,"  put  in  Mark; 
"anyhow  they  are  amusing  you." 

Suddenly  the  silence  was  broken  by  a  wild  cheer 
and  the  shutters  of  the  pavilion  were  flung  wide  open, 
letting  loose  a  yellow  glare  of  light  on  the  scene.  But 
now  the  cunning  of  the  defending  party  was  visible, 
for  instead  of  employing  all  their  forces  on  the  fire 
fight,  they  had  left  a  small  body  of  men  in  ambush 
and  these  now  rushed  on  the  intruders  and  though 
they  could  not  oust  them,  they  delayed  their  final  dis- 
play of  triumph  which  was  the  unfurling  of  a  flag — 
that  being  the  compromise  agreed  to — to  render  the 
affair  something  more  than  a  foregone  conclusion. 

The  little  group  of  audience  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 
Mark,  doing  much  violence  to  his  own  feeling  by  re- 
maining neutral,  and  Bessington  himself  longing  to 
take  a  hand,  but  quite  awake  to  a  danger  to  which 
the  others  seemed  indifferent. 

Then  that  danger  took  form.  A  heavier  gust  of 
wind  than  usual  swept  a  tiny  bundle  of  flaming  straw 
up  in  the  air,  and  dropped  it  on  the  roof  of  the  pa- 
vilion. No  snow  had  laid  on  the  thatch  faggots,  which 
were  dry  as  tinder  under  influence  of  sun  and  wind. 
The  faggots  welcomed  the  fiery  bundle,  caught  it,  as 
it  were,  to  their  breast,  and  though  Bessington,  seeing 
it  instantly,  shouted  a  warning  as  he  rushed  forward, 
no  one  heard,  and  almost  immediately  the  roof  burst 
into  flame,  the  wind  fanning  this  to  wild  exuberance. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  41 

Bessington  found  himself  in  command  of  the  ex- 
cited band.  Some  were  set  to  shovel  snow  on  the 
roof,  others  to  drag  farther  off  the  smoking  faggots 
before  the  building.  It  was  soon  obvious  that  there 
was  little  chance  of  saving  the  pavilion  and  their 
efforts  must  be  directed  to  preventing  the  fire  spread- 
ing to  the  cow-byre  on  the  other  side  of  the  near  wall 
which  was  linked  to  the  pavilion  by  a  line  of  larch 
trees,  and  a  wood  paling. 

The  ground  became  a  sea  of  muddy,  trampled  snow, 
charred  wood  and  ashes,  and  the  workers  with  their 
blackened  faces  and  dishevelled  clothes  became  more 
aware  of  the  real  destruction  they  had  wrought  and 
less  alive  to  the  tremendous  fun  of  it. 

Bessington  found  Mrs.  Crofton  by  his  side,  pull- 
ing aside  the  debris  of  the  wooden  fence  which  he 
was  tearing  down  to  cut  the  direct  line  of  commu- 
nication with  the  larch  trees. 

"Where's  Veronica,"  he  asked,  without  stopping  his 
work. 

"I  sent  her  to  tell  Alexander.  They  won't  see  the 
glare  from  the  house,  or  hear  anything  in  this 
wind." 

He  accepted  her  help  quite  naturally,  and  then  a 
wounded  combatant  came  running  up  for  first  aid  and 
she  muffled  a  rather  badly  burnt  finger  in  a  clean 
handkerchief. 

"Isn't  it  a  lark?"  cried  the  injured  one. 

Mrs.  Crofton  laughed  and  glanced  a  little  shame- 
facedly at  Bessington.  It  was  quite  obvious  that  she 
was  enjoying  the  excitement  immensely. 

The  red  gold  of  the  flame  against  the  dim  snowy 
world  and  the  moving  figures  in  the  still  persistent 
clouds  of  smoke  made  a  queer  picture.  It  crossed 
Bessington's  mind  that  not  half  an  hour  ago  they  were 
seated  in  quiet  security  around  the  drawing-room  fire 
with  the  fitful  ugly  night  shut  out — and  that  they 


42  FELICITY  CROFTON 

would  have  been  there  now  if  it  had  not  been  for 
Mrs.  Crofton. 

Suddenly  through  the  midst  of  them  a  terrified, 
scared  rabbit  rushed  madly  right  up  into  the  verandah 
of  the  burning  building  itself,  and  huddled  in  a  corner 
ready  for  the  death  that  pursued !  Felicity  saw  it  and 
cried  out  in  distress  and  one  boy  made  a  dash  for  the 
steps.  Bessington  pulled  him  back  instantly. 

"The  roof's  going!"  he  shouted.    "Keep  away!" 

As  he  spoke  part  of  the  verandah  roof  fell  in,  with 
a  crash,  but  not  the  end  in  which  the  poor  little  crea- 
ture crouched. 

Before  Bessington  saw  what  she  was  at,  Felicity 
was  up  the  steps  and  had  seized  the  rabbit.  A  bit 
of  burning  wood  fell  on  her  shoulder  as  she  sprang 
back  amongst  them.  It  was  Bessington  who  dragged 
her  back  and  roughly  crushed  out  the  fire  from  the 
smouldering  cloth  of  which  she  was  unaware.  She 
twisted  from  his  hold  and  ran  off  to  the  wood  and 
dropped  the  still  living  and  unharmed  bunny  over  the 
wall  into  safety  and  darkness. 

Bessington  walked  after  her  and  accosted  her  hotly : 

"I'd  send  you  home  if  you  were  one  of  the  boys, 
Mrs.  Crofton.  It  was  an  unpardonable  thing  to  do! 
What  business  have  you  to  run  those  risks — with 
Veronica?" 

"I'm  sorry,"  she  returned  meekly.  "Of  course  it 
was  silly,  but,  you  see,  I  am  not  hurt — and  really 
I  didn't  stop  to  think." 

"Somehow  I  shouldn't  have  expected  you  to  lose 
your  head." 

Eve  dashed  up  to  them. 

"Madre,  are  you  hurt  ?  Oh,  why  on  earth  did  you 
do  it?  It  was  mad!" — but  unlike  Bessington  his 
tongue  told  one  tale  and  his  eyes  another.  They  one 
and  all  greeted  her  with  cheers  and  acclamations  of 
praise,  half  derisive,  half  sincere,  and  a  little  reproach- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  43 

ful,  but  Bessington  betrayed  no  sign  of  relenting.  He 
was  angry  with  her,  and  she  knew  it  and  felt  oddly 
ashamed. 

Then  she  knew  she  had  displeased  some  one  else. 

"You  here,  Felicity?"  said  Alexander's  voice. 
"Have  you  a  hand  in  this  mischief?" 

"I'm  here,  anyhow,"  she  admitted.  "It  wasn't  meant 
for  mischief,  Alexander.  It  was  the  wind  did  that. 
And  it  was  such  fun  till  the  fire  began." 

Servants  and  labourers  and  general  helpers  had  ar- 
rived by  now,  and  somewhat  late  in  the  day  the  hand 
fire  engine  was  dragged  up  the  hill  from  the  house, 
but  nothing  could  be  done.  The  pavilion  was  de- 
stroyed, several  trees  burnt  and  several  men  injured. 
Alexander,  surveying  the  scene,  did  not  feel  at  all 
inclined  to  let  his  sister's  definition  of  fun  go  unchal- 
lenged. 

"If  you  knew  anything  of  such  a  preposterous  piece 
of  work  and  did  not  warn  me,  all  I  can  say  is  I  hope 
you  will  be  able  to  make  matters  right  with  Streeter's 
people  if  he's  too  badly  hurt  to  go  up  for  his  exam 
this  year.  He  can't  spare  time  to  be  ill." 

"Oh,  Alexander !    He  isn't  really  hurt,  is  he  ?" 

"Mark  and  O'Brian  are  just  carrying  him  down  and 
I've  told  them  to  telephone  for  a  doctor,"  her  brother 
insisted  relentlessly. 

"What  happened?"  She  was  on  thorns  to  run  off 
after  the  injured  boy,  but  dared  not. 

"His  sleeve  caught  fire,  pulling  off  a  faggot  just  as 
I  came  up  and  I  daresay  half  the  others  are  injured 
more  or  less.  It's  what  any  one  but  those  fools  of 
boys  might  have  foreseen." 

Quite  unthinkingly  Bessington,  who  was  standing  on 
the  other  side  of  Mrs.  Crofton,  straightened  himself 
up  in  the  old  familiar  manner. 

"I'm  most  guilty,  sir,"  he  said  sorrowfully,  "I  fore- 
saw the  possibility  and  didn't  stop  things." 


44  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"You  hadn't  time,"  put  in  Mrs.  Crofton. 

"I  had  ever  since  this  morning,"  he  confessed. 

Alexander  turned  to  the  group  of  boys,  serious  and 
tired  enough  now. 

"You  can  all  go  down,"  he  said  sharply ;  "there  are 
enough  grown-up  people  to  see  to  this  now.  I'll  talk 
to  you  in  the  morning." 

Adam  Preston  lingered,  looking  anxiously  at  Mrs. 
Crofton. 

"Mrs.  Crofton  and  the  rest  only  came  up  at  the  end, 
sir.  They  couldn't " 

"Mrs.  Crofton  can  tell  me  that  herself,"  inter- 
rupted Mr.  Fraser  sharply. 

The  guilty  lady  could  not  resist  a  little  glance  at 
Bessington  and  a  gleam  of  answering  amusement  flick- 
ered in  his  eye. 

"Thank  you,  Eve,"  she  said  gratefully.  "I  am 
completely  flattened  out  myself,  so  I  shall  be  able  to 
sympathise  with  you  to-morrow.  Oh,  Alexander, 
where's  Veronica?" 

"I  sent  her  home.  I  suppose  you  have  only  just 
missed  her.  You  had  better  go  too.  Bessington,  will 
you  see  she  does  go  home?" 

"I  am  going  first  to  hear  how  Jim  is,"  she  answered 
firmly. 

"It's  all  very  well,"  she  remarked  when  they  were 
out  of  earshot,  "but  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  wind 
there  would  have  been  no  fire,  and  nothing  would 
have  happened  but  the  fun — and  it  was  fun,  what- 
ever Alexander  says.  Of  course  he  makes  one  feel 
in  the  wrong  for  the  minute,  but  my  own  sober  senses 
tell  me  there  is  nothing  wrong  in  trying  to  enact 
the  night  attack  on  Mulio." 

"But  lack  of  common  sense  is  wrong.  They 
ought  to  have  waited  for  a  still  night  and  they  had 
the  faggots  too  close.  I  saw  it  at  once,  and — well, 
it  was  out  of  law  after  all" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  45 

"He'll  be  dreadfully  hard  on  them  to-morrow,"  she 
said  mournfully. 

"Not  harder  than  the  world  will  be  if  they  do  silly 
things  without  Fafner  to  point  out  the  silliness.  I  am 
really  most  guilty  because  I  thought  of  the  wind,  and 
did  not  stop  them.  I  just  recollected  how  sick  I 
should  have  been  myself  if  an  outsider  had  inter- 
fered." 

"You  are  a  betwixt  and  between,"  she  declared, 
laughing;  "and  so  am  I.  So  I  shall  tell  Alexander 
to  have  us  both  up  together;  he  can't  say  more  than 
he  means  to  say." 

Bessington  laughed.  "Are  you  sure?  Unless  he 
has  changed  a  good  deal  I  don't  think  it  would  make 
much  difference." 

VII 

Alexander's  relentless  prognostication  happily  did 
not  prove  entirely  true.  Jim  Streeter  was  laid  up 
for  some  weeks  with  his  injured  arm  and  for  that 
time  there  was  quite  a  definite  fear  his  future  career 
might  be  endangered,  but  in  the  end  he  recovered. 
Nevertheless,  during  those  first  anxious  days  every 
perpetrator  in  the  "outrageous  proceeding,"  as  Alex- 
ander persisted  in  calling  it,  felt  himself  in  disgrace. 
The  only  person  on  whom  Alexander  did  not  appar- 
ently drop  tooth  and  nail  was  Bessington,  to  whom 
he  merely  said  pleasantly : 

"Please  don't  think  I  am  blaming  you,  Bessington. 
A  visitor,  of  course,  is  excused.  Besides,  I  couldn't 
reasonably  expect  you  to  share  my  feelings  now  for 
my  good  name,  as  I  might  my  present  pupils." 

At  which  remark,  Bessington  drew  a  long  breath, 
apologised  profoundly,  and  told  Mrs.  Crofton  that 
Fafner  had  not  yet  learnt  the  art  of  hitting  gently. 

Poor  Malby's  consternation  was  deep  and  lasting. 


46  FELICITY  CROFTON 

He  could  hardly  bear  to  meet  the  army  his  dramatic 
lecture  had  called  into  being;  but  they  one  and  all 
scoffed  at  his  attitude  and  told  him  with  kindly  meant 
but  brutal  instinct,  that  it  was  only  because  they  had 
not  understood  his  story  they  wanted  to  test  the  possi- 
bility of  it. 

But  the  most  lasting  effect  of  the  event  was  the 
sealing  of  a  definite  friendship  between  Bessington 
and  Mrs.  Crofton.  He  never  apologised  for  his  hot 
words  to  her,  and  she  undoubtedly  liked  him  the  bet- 
ter for  it.  Whether  it  was  the  snaring  of  the  illegal 
excitement,  or  the  sharing  of  the  high  displeasure  of 
Alexander,  or  a  combination  of  both,  but  Bessington 
certainly  found  that  Mrs.  Crofton  and  he  had  a  new 
estimate  of  each  other,  and  that  when  he  should  leave 
Bath  he  would  be  the  possessor  of  something  he  had 
never  wholly  possessed  before — a  woman's  friendship. 

As  for  Veronica,  she  pretended  only  to  laugh  at  her 
mother's  disgrace  with  Fafner.  "Madre's  always  do- 
ing things  like  that,"  she  said  comfortably.  "Uncle 
Fafner  will  forget  it  in  a  week." 


VIII 

Alexander  Fraser  adored  his  sister,  but  it  was  quite 
true,  as  he  confessed -to  Bessington  one  night,  that  at 
times  she  tried  him  sorely. 

"My  sister  is  the  oddest  mixture/'  he  began  diffi- 
dently, again  conveying  a  faint  suspicion  of  accus- 
tomed apology  for  her.  "Her  excessive  sympathy  with 
youth  and  its  careless  ways  leads  her  into  all  sorts 
of  scrapes  and  dangers." 

"You  mean  about  the  rabbit,"  put  in  Bessington, 
who  knew  he  meant  nothing  of  the  kind. 

"What  rabbit?" 

Bessington  related  the  incident. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  47 

"She  never  lacked  courage,"  remarked  Mr.  Fraser, 
after  a  moment's  silence. 

Bessington  looked  up  quickly. 

"Courage?  It  was  not  a  question  of  courage  with 
her.  It  was  pure  instinct  without  judgment,  and  she 
had  no  right  at  all "  He  stopped  abruptly. 

Alexander's  rare  smile  brought  out  a  singular  like- 
ness to  his  sister. 

"As  you  doubtless  told  her?"  he  suggested. 

"As  I  told  her — or  tried  to.  Mrs.  Crof ton's  life  is 
of  more  consequence  than  a  rabbit's." 

They  smoked  in  silence.  Presently  Fraser  smiled 
again. 

"I  had  a  visitor  this  morning  on  behalf  of  my  sister. 
Veronica  called." 

Bessington  contrived  only  to  look  politely  inter- 
ested. 

"She  said  if  I  was  cross  to  her  mother  she  would  not 
speak  to  me  for  a  week,  and,  mark  this,  Bessington, 
she  threatened  to  make  O 'Brian  play  golf  with  her 
three  times  a  week  and  be  late  for  work  every  time. 
She  would  do  it,  too !"  he  sighed. 

"Why  O'Brian?"  Bessington  asked  the  question 
with  an  air  of  detached  interest. 

"He  plays  golf  well  and  he  has  no  time  to  waste 
over  it,  or  to  be  late.  Veronica  knows  how  to  pick 
her  chances.  Little  imp!" 

But  his  smile  was  indulgent. 

Veronica  at  least  had  never  tasted  the  rough  side 
of  his  sharp  tongue. 

IX 

The  snow  had  gone  and  left  discomfort  and  mud 
behind  it.  Fields  and  roads  were  alike  unwalkable. 
The  whole  countryside  looked  dirty  and  half  washed, 
and  Mrs,  Crofton  had  to  hire  a  motor  to  get  about, 


48  FELICITY  CROFTON 

and  declared  she  would  perish  of  inertia.  Veronica 
frankly  enjoyed  the  motor. 

"I  shall  go  abroad,"  said  Mrs.  Crofton  one  dispirit- 
ing afternoon  when  they  returned  from  a  pump-room 
concert.  "Let's  go  to  Corsica,  Veronica.  We  have 
always  wanted  to  and  never  done  it." 

Veronica  considered  the  proposition  dispassionately 
a  moment,  then  she  leant  across  to  Bessington. 

"When  are  you  going  away,  Mr.  Bessington?" 

"Tuesday  next."     He  said  it  with  genuine  regret. 

"Very  well,"  she  announced  with  outrageous  frank- 
ness; "then  we  can  go  on  Wednesday,  if  you  like, 
Madre,  not  before." 

Bessington  got  up  and  bowed  to  her  and  she  dropped 
him  a  curtsey. 

Her  mother  tried  to  look  shocked  and  failed. 

"You  see,"  explained  the  unabashed  Veronica, 
"Madre  always  says  we  should  never  miss  opportuni- 
ties of  making  friends.  Now  Mr.  Bessington  will 
be  away  ever  so  long,  so  it  is  just  foolish  to  miss  see- 
ing as  much  of  him  as  we  can  while  he's  here." 

She  looked  at  him  with  perfectly  candid  eyes. 
There  was  no  coquetry  in  her  remark ;  she  was  merely 
stating  an  incontestable  truth. 

"There  is  something  in  it,"  agreed  her  mother, 
"from  our  point  of  view,  and  we  won't  ask  Dominic 
for  his." 

He  had  been  lately  promoted  to  the  line  of  friends 
with  Christian  names. 

"I  certainly  think  Wednesday  is  the  first  day  possi- 
ble," he  assured  them. 

"Also  it  will  save  Madre  rushing  things  as  much  as 
usual.  It  gives  one  time  to  breathe." 

Bessington  smiled. 

"I  don't  think  most  people  would  think  four  days  a 
long  time  to  prepare  for  a  journey  to  Corsica." 

"They  would  if  they  had  Madre  to  deal  with." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  49 

"Don't  you  think,"  put  in  Mrs.  Crofton,  "that  peo- 
ple make  a  great  deal  too  much  fuss  about  prepara- 
tions, as  a  rule?  Things  are  simple  enough  if  one 
only  knows  one's  own  mind.  We  shall  just  go  to 
Genoa,  where  we  know  the  hotels  and  wire  from  there 
to  the  best  hotel  in  Ajaccio  and  take  the  first  good 
boat  across.  We  never  take  much  luggage.  It  saves 
a  lot  of  worry  to  buy  things  there  if  one  wants  them." 

"Madre  loves  finding  she  has  no  clothes  and  buying 
native  costumes,"  cried  Veronica  mischievously. 

"Yes,  I  do,  if  they  are  pretty." 

Bessington  knew  instinctively  the  clothes  would  be 
bought  if  they  happened  to  suit  Veronica. 


5o  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER  II 

"He  Who  Is  Enmeshed  in  Love's  Toils  Must 
Expect  to  Find  His  Sight  Grow  Hazy  in  the 
Glamour." 


IT  was  June  before  Bessington  again  visited  Priest's 
Park,  though  he  did  not  pass  through  the  entire  in- 
terum  without  news  of  Mr.  Fraser  and  incidentally  of 
the  Croftons,  who  did  not  return  to  England  till  April. 
From  April  onwards  Bessington's  desire  to  return 
to  Bath  augmented  each  week.  He  could  easily  have 
satisfied  the  craving  by  a  week-end  visit  to  Mr.  Fraser 
at  any  time,  but  it  was  characteristic  of  him  to  force 
his  desire  into  his  habitual  harness  of  self-control, 
denying  it  other  food  than  those  impressions  and  recol- 
lections stored  up  in  his  mind  of  the  two  individuals 
who  had,  without  his  will,  become  such  important  fac- 
tors in  his  life.  He  fed  himself  thus,  till  the  impres- 
sions became  so  thin  he  was  in  doubt  of  their  relia- 
bility. Not,  however,  with  regard  to  Veronica,  be  it 
noted.  There  his  impressions  needed  neither  correc- 
tion nor  superimposition,  though  they  clamoured  for 
more  food.  He  meant  to  marry  Veronica  if  the  will 
of  man  could  compass  it.  He  still  attempted  no 
analysis  of  her,  or  of  his  own  love.  Its  very  unreason- 
ableness in  the  point  of  age — his  and  hers — its  dura- 
tion and  its  poor  chances  were  in  his  eyes  the  guaran- 
tee of  its  solidity.  This  resolution  towards  marriage 
grew  with  the  passing  months,  from  the  misty  condi- 


Si 

tion  of  a  far-off  dream  to  that  of  a  practicable  fact, 
within  measurable  distance  of  accomplishment.  In  its 
growth  there  was  also  an  element  of  unreason  as 
great  or  greater  than  in  his  love.  It  was  chiefly  on 
account  of  this  ultimate  purpose  of  his  that  he  held 
in  check  his  desire  to  visit  Bath,  for  his  reason  at 
least  recognised  Veronica's  youth,  and  the  enormous 
factor  Mrs.  Crofton  must  play  in  the  success  or  fail- 
ure of  his  undertaking.  It  was  his  impressions  of  Mrs. 
Crofton  herself  that  needed  clarifying  and  correcting, 
and  it  was  the  problem  of  Mrs.  Crofton  that  occupied 
his  outward  intelligence,  at  least  so  he  believed. 

Then  one  Saturday,  at  the  beginning  of  June,  he 
found  himself  leaning  over  the  terrace  wall  at  the 
Haven  by  Mrs.  Crofton's  side,  watching  the  tennis 
that  was  in  progress  below  them. 

He  had  arrived  that  morning  and  found  Mrs.  Crof- 
ton entertaining  a  house  full  of  girls,  and  tennis  parties 
the  order  of  the  day. 

All  the  way  down  in  the  train  he  had  told  himself 
she  could  not  possibly  be  so  young  as  his  memory  pic- 
tured her,  either  in  person  or  soul ;  but,  watching  her 
face  now,  half  shaded  under  her  wide  hat,  he  found 
he  could  alter  no  impression.  Just  so  had  he  seen, 
in  his  mind's  eye,  her  oval  face  and  rather  tanned  com- 
plexion with  its  glow  of  health;  the  rather  large  but 
well-shaped  mouth,  at  once  strong  and  tender,  and  the 
sweeping  line  of  her  tall  figure.  Then  she  turned  to 
him,  and  he  saw  her  eyes.  Those  eyes  in  which  so 
much  more  than  youth  was  included.  Here  was  what 
he  had  forgotten.  He  was  suddenly  conscious  that 
she  was  older  than  he,  and  in  a  mysterious  way  he 
was  at  once  relieved  and  satisfied  at  it. 

"It's  splendid  to  watch  Eve  serving.  I  love  the 
spring  and  swerve  of  him."  She  indicated  something 
vaguely  with  a  sweep  of  her  hand.  "It's  so  good  to 
see  young,  free  things  move — the  beauty  of  free  ac- 


52  FELICITY  CROFTON 

tion,  the  glory  of  physical  life!  No  mere  work  of 
art  conveys  it." 

"  'The  Disk  Thrower'  ?"  he  suggested. 

She  knitted  her  brows  and  then  nodded. 

"Well,  perhaps  great  things  like  that  suggest  it,  but 
it's  not  suggestion  there" — indicating  the  players 
again — "it's  real!  I  am  not  truly  artistic,  because  I 
always  want  beautiful  things  translated  into  action — 
great  poems,  or  pictures,  or  music — what  you  wtll.  I 
want  to  see  it  alive  and  manifest — here !"  She  stopped 
a  moment,  and  then  continued  in  her  half -eager,  intro- 
spective way:  "Of  course  the  very  best  manifesta- 
tion is  only  a  shadow  of  the  real  thing  at  present,  but 
it's  youth  that  casts  that  shadow,  and  that's  why  I 
love  young  people  and  young  things  round  me — it's 
not  that  they  hold  promise  of  greater  things,  but  they 
are  themselves  the  shadow  of  them.  They  are,  after 
all,  so  much  nearer  the  original  thought." 

"You  are  hard  on  age,"  he  protested. 

"Only  because  age  turns  its  back  on  youth  so  quickly 
and  doesn't  value  it.  To  keep  the  divine  fire  of  youth 
and  with  it  the  wider  sense  that  comes  of  experience, 
still  to  possess  the  faith  when  it's  really  hard  to  have 
any  faith  at  all — those  are  the  desirable  things  that  set 
age  apart  from  us  if  we  would  only  believe  it.  It's 
not  mere  years !" 

Bessington  frankly  abandoned  the  pretence  of  watch- 
ing the  game  and  altered  his  position  so  he  could  watch 
her  face  instead. 

"Is  that  your  own  receipt  ?"  he  asked  quietly. 

"So  far  as  the  world  permits  it,"  she  answered, 
smiling.  "I  do  love  youth  and  all  things  that  are 
healthy  and  strong  and  beautiful,  and  children.  Not 
necessarily  babies.  They  are  sweet,  of  course,  but  they 
don't  cast  the  shadow  of  perfection.  We  don't  want 
them  to  remain  babies — but  children  like  those" — she 
indicated  the  players  below — "I  try  in  a  way  to  keep 


FELICITY  CROFTON  53' 

step  with  them,  but  experience  is  always  getting  in  the 
way  of  instinct.  I  know  and  see  what's  coming  and 
it's  hard  sometimes  to  sit  still  and  let  them  have  the 
joy  of  discovery  for  themselves." 

"Sometimes  it's  not  all  joy — that  discovery,"  he  re- 
turned a  little  grimly. 

"But  often  that  is  because  we  can't  read  correctly. 
Grown-up  people  are  so  ready  to  point  out  that  what 
looks  like  a  joy  is  really  a  grief,  instead  of  letting 
them  find  out  for  themselves,  when  they  have  also  had 
time  to  learn  how  difficult  it  is  to  know  what  consti- 
tutes real  joy  or  sorrow.  Oh,  I  always  feel  we  have 
no  right  to  be  always  instructing  them !" 

Adam  Preston  made  another  brilliant  serve  and  won 
the  set.  The  girl  who  was  playing  with  him  and 
who  had  certainly  done  her  share  towards  victory  ac- 
cepted the  triumph  without  surprise  and  seated  herself 
on  the  bank  between  the  three  other  girls  who  were 
watching. 

"She  plays  well,"  remarked  Dominic. 

"Yes;  that's  Mary  Fuller,  my  god-daughter.  She 
is  a  dear  girl,  but  she  really  cares  for  nothing  in  the 
world  but  outdoor  sports.  I  thought  Eve  would  like 
her,"  she  added  naively. 

"Does  he?" 

"He  likes  her  as  a  tennis  partner." 

"Who's  the  girl  in  pink?' 

"Stella  Forrester — Mark's  sister."  Mrs.  Crofton 
spoke  rather  slowly.  They  both  looked  at  the  pink- 
gowned  girl  a  moment 

"Don't  you  think  she  is  pretty?" 

Bessington  refused  to  be  hurried  to  a  polite  judg- 
ment. He  still  took  time. 

"Her  eyes  are  too  big,"  he  said  quietly. 

"Most  people  admire  big  eyes." 

There  was  an  intangible  something  in  Mrs.  Crof- 
ton's  voice  that  brought  his  attention  to  her  face  again. 


54  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"It  is  clear  that  some  one  down  there  admires  them," 
he  commented,  with  a  smile. 

Mrs.  Crofton  turned  to  him  with  a  certainty  of  find- 
ing sympathy  and  understanding,  which  revealed  to 
Bessington  that  their  friendship  was  something  more 
than  acquaintanceship. 

"I  asked  her  for  a  day  or  two  because  she  is  Mark's 
sister  and  because  Eve  spent  all  the  Easter  vacation 
fishing  in  the  Wiley  Valley,  and  the  Forresters  live  at 
Pieceminster.  If  it  really  meant  nothing,  it  would 
get  rubbed  out  best  amongst  others,  and  if  it  were  seri- 
ous it  would  be  better  to  know.  Besides,  I  really 
wanted  to  see  what  she  was  like." 

It  was  as  if  she  challenged  him  to  find  fault  with 
her  invitation  or  its  intention,  and  he  on  his  part 
found  himself  weighing  the  merits  of  the  case  and 
pronouncing  her  guiltless  at  the  bar  of  common 
sense. 

He  realised  sharply  that  Mrs.  Crofton  was  a  factor 
of  importance  in  the  lives  of  these  young  people  who 
surrounded  her. 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  her?" 

She  frowned  in  a  puzzled  way. 

"I  am  not  certain  yet.  I  can  see  what  Eve  thinks  of 
her  at  present,  which  is  perhaps  more  important" — • 
then  quite  suddenly  she  turned  to  him  with  obvious 
consternation — "I  don't  know  in  the  least  why  I  should 
be  talking  to  you  of  all  this.  Please  don't  think  I  am 
in  the  habit  of  discussing  other  people's  affairs  with 
a  third  person.  I  can't  give  you  any  reason  except  that 
it  is  you,  which  is  quite  unreasonable." 

She  looked  so  anxious  and  so  entirely  oblivious  of 
the  compliment  to  her  listener  that  he  felt  oddly  per- 
turbed at  its  sincerity,  and  hastened  to  assure  her 
that  it  was  not  unreasonable,  but  that  he  liked  to  con- 
sider himself  part  of  Fafner's  establishment  as  much 
as  she  did,  Which  remark  had  the  success  of  making 


FELICITY  CROFTON  55 

her  laugh.  She  went  on  hurriedly  to  relate  Mark's 
history. 

Mark  had  had  a  post  offered  him  a  month  ago, 
on  the  condition  that  he  could  take  it  at  once  and  sail 
for  India  in  a  week.  It  meant  flinging  up  the  exam- 
ination, but  it  had  not  been  all  wasted  work,  as  he 
could  not  have  had  the  post  offered  him  if  he  had 
not  had  a  fair  chance  of  passing  the  examination.  It 
meant  good  immediate  pay,  which  weighed  heavily 
With  him,  and  he  had  gone. 

"Alexander  was  very  good  about  it,"  she  added. 
"There  was  always  a  doubt  over  Mark's  languages." 

She  did  not  offer,  as  she  might  have  done,  any  ex- 
planation as  to  how  the  offer  came  to  be  made. 

It  was  obvious  that  with  a  garden  full  of  guests 
Mrs.  Crofton  could  not  spend  the  whole  afternoon 
talking  to  Dominic  Bessington.  Yet  as  she  moved 
from  one  to  another  she  was  conscious  of  his  presence 
in  her  garden,  as  of  some  one  to  whom  she  could 
turn,  not  for  material  assistance — any  one  of  the  boys 
were  at  her  command  that  way — but  for  that  mutual 
understanding  and  support  that  wanted  no  command, 
but  was  there  foreseeing  and  foreknowing.  She  rec- 
ognised in  Bessington's  interest  in  others  something 
akin  to  her  own  quick  sympathy,  and  drew  moral  sup- 
port from  it.  Once,  watching  him  play,  a  grown  man 
amongst  all  those  slim  boys,  it  crossed  her  mind  that 
he  himself  was  a  shadow,  not  of  perfect  youth  but  of 
a  still  more  perfect  maturity. 

II 

Another  set  was  over  down  on  the  lawn  below, 
and  Adam  took  a  well-earned  rest.  He  approached 
the  row  of  girls  sitting  on  the  bank,  and  Veronica 
made  room  for  him  between  herself  and  Stella  For- 
rester. 


<56  FELICITY  CROFTON 

Stella,  with  an  almost  horrified  look,  edged  nearer 
to  her  next  neighbour,  and  though  Eve's  intention  of 
sitting  there  was  most  plainly  not  to  talk  to  Veronica, 
he  found  he  had  to  do  so  or  maintain  silence,  for  Stella 
had  nothing  to  say  to  him.  He  bore  it  for  some  time 
with  patience  and  then  told  her  he  had  brought  some 
photographs  over  that  he  had  taken  in  the  Wiley  Val- 
ley and  they  were  in  the  house  if  she  cared  to  see 
them.  If  he  expected  her  to  jump  up  and  suggest  see- 
ing them,  then  and  there,  he  was  disappointed.  She 
did  not  seem  particularly  interested,  merely  remarking 
it  was  a  pretty  part  for  photography. 

Adam  got  tired  of  waiting  for  her  mood  to  change, 
and  went  off  to  umpire  for  the  men. 

A  little  later,  when  he  went  to  the  house  to  fetch 
something  for  Mrs.  Crofton,  he  found  Stella  in  the 
porch  and  she  asked  him,  with  rather  a  diffident  air, 
where  the  photographs  were. 

Instead  of  at  once  gratifying  her  tardy  interest,  Eve 
stood  before  her  and  looked  at  her  with  puzzled  eyes. 

"What  have  I  done,  Miss  Forrester  ?" 

"It  was  Veronica,  not  you,"  she  answered  hurriedly. 
"At  least  I  don't  know  what  you  mean!" 

"You  would  hardly  speak  to  me  down  on  the  lawn 
just  now." 

She  burst  out  with  curious  petulance: 

"Why  should  Veronica  assume  you  wanted  to  sit 
by  me  in  that  undisguised  way  ?" 

Adam  looked  relieved  and  even  smiled. 

"Veronica  is  good  at  guessing  sometimes,  but  if 
you  didn't  want  me  to  sit  by  you  I'm  sorry." 

He  could  not  in  the  least  see  her  point  of  view,  or 
even  recognise  she  had  one  apart  from  his  own.  It 
seemed  to  him  quite  natural  that  Veronica  should  know 
he  would  like  to  sit  next  to  Miss  Forrester,  who  must 
be  very  shy  if  she  could  be  embarrassed  by  anything 
Veronica  said  or  did.  However,  he  made  his  peace, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  57 

and  took  Stella  into  the  drawing-room  to  see  the  pho- 
tos. Stella  was  quite  friendly  and  nice  when  they 
were  alone,  but  unaccountably  distant  and  shy  before 
others.  He  did  not  understand  it,  but  put  it  down  to 
shyness. 

Mrs.  Crofton  watched  them  both  without  apparently 
taking  any  notice  of  them.  She  was  puzzled  over 
Mark's  sister.  It  was  not  that  the  girl  held  herself 
aloof,  or  was  naturally  reserved,  as  that  her  attitude 
towards  others  seemed  invariable  antagonistic  or  too 
obviously  conciliatory.  Mrs.  Crofton  could  not  wholly 
resist  the  appealing  mourn  fulness  of  her  eyes;  she 
found  herself  continually  making  allowance  for  some- 
thing in  Mark's  sister  that  was  unsatisfactory,  though 
she  could  not  say  what  it  was.  She  did  not  make 
Eve's  mistake  of  thinking  her  either  shy  or  delicate, 
both  of  which  imaginary  qualities  seemed  to  rouse  in 
him  a  chivalrous  instinct  of  protection,  and  which  Mrs. 
Crofton  would  have  been  well  content  to  see  more 
dormant.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Eve's  evident  infatua- 
tion, she  would  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Stella 
Forrester  was  rather  "out  of  the  picture"  and  not 
destined  to  become  one  of  her  .best  protegees.  Still 
there  was  Eve  to  reckon  with,  and  she  would  far 
rather  study  Stella  to  point  of  boredom  than  leave  the 
very  unanalytical  Eve  to  form  opinions  she  was  not 
in  a  position  to  counteract.  As  to  why  it  should  be  a 
danger  for  him  to  fall  even  temporarily  in  love  with 
the  sister  of  his  best  friend,  Mrs.  Crofton  could  neither 
understand  nor  explain  even  to  herself.  She  had  no 
dictum  of  common  sense  or  even  knowledge  behind 
her.  She  was  only  aware  she  instinctively  felt  there 
was  something  prejudicial  to  his  future  in  the  fact, 
and  though  contrary  to  her  established  custom  she  did 
her  best  to  quench  the  instinct,  she  never  quite  suc- 
ceeded. 

Stella,   for  her  part,  once  she  had  got  over  her 


58  FELICITY  CROFTON 

first  air  of  hostility  to  a  world  of  strangers,  enjoyed 
herself  immensely  at  the  Haven.  She  revelled  in  the 
beautiful  ease  of  the  life,  just  as  she  rejoiced  with 
genuine  emotion  over  a  fine  splash  of  colour  or  a  lovely 
dress,  just  as  she  seemed  to  absorb  and  sink  into  the 
small  comforts  that  surrounded  her,  much  as  a  cat 
will  accommodate  itself  to  the  best  cushion  as  one  who 
has  at  last  found  a  fitted  setting  for  itself. 

HI 

One  evening,  the  third  after  Bessington's  advent, 
Mrs.  Crofton  learnt  a  bit  more  concerning  her  puzzling 
guest. 

It  was  the  enchanting  hour  between  dusk  and  night, 
and  Mrs.  Crofton  was  seated  on  the  lawn  feeding  on 
the  quiet  peace  which  held  the  earth  in  its  arms  and 
her  with  it.  Stella  came  towards  her  in  the  dusk 
across  the  garden,  a  grey-clad,  fragile  figure,  hanging 
on  her  steps,  as  if  she  feared  to  intrude. 

Mrs.  Crofton  patted  the  chair  beside  her. 

"Plenty  of  room,"  she  said  encouragingly,  and  the 
girl  sat  down  with  a  sigh. 

"Why  the  sigh?" 

Stella  turned  quickly  towards  her,  and  put  her 
hands  on  Mrs.  Crofton's  knees.  There  was  just  a 
tinge  of  artificialness  in  her  movement  and  attitude, 
yet  Mrs.  Crofton  could  not  but  be  conscious  of  the 
pathos  of  the  white  face  showing  faintly  in  the  dying 
light. 

"Everything  is  so  beautiful  here  and  different  to 
other  places." 

"It's  a  compliment,  but  a  little  unjust  to  'other 
places,'  isn't  it?" 

"Not  to  those  I  know.  Here,  you  don't  seem  to 
care  about  understanding  things  or  feeling  them.  You 
are  just  content  to  live." 


59 

"So  are  cabbages  and  roses.  But  seriously,  I  am 
that — content  to  live." 

"You  don't  want  to  get  through  to  realities,  to  real 
things?  You  don't  mind  that  nothing  happens?" 

"Things  are  always  happening,  my  dear.  Nice 
things,  too.  I've  had  a  lovely  day  on  the  river.  I've 
seen  Veronica  being  made  to  do  things  by  Mr.  Bes- 
sington  which  was  most  amusing.  I've  seen  Eve  play 
tennis — which  is  always  a  joy — and  I  have  talked  to 
the  evening,  which  is  the  biggest  happening  of  all. 
Sometimes  one  can  do  that,  and  sometimes  one  can't,1* 
she  added  dreamily;  "one  has  to  be  in  the  right  key." 

"But  you  don't  call  those  things  important  parts  of 
life!" 

Mrs.  Crofton  wanted  to  laugh  at  the  girl's  morbidly 
tragic  tone,  but  she  felt  also  a  great  pity  for  her. 
To  be  twenty-two  and  so  out  of  touch  with  real  values, 
was  tragic. 

"I  rather  fancy  that  those  sort  of  things  are  the  best 
worth  happening.  Such  a  lot  of  people  go  through 
the  world  waiting  for  thunderclaps  to  tell  them  any- 
thing, and  wasting  all  the  time  in  between  the  noise!" 

"But  the  sort  of  things  you  mentioned  aren't 
events." 

Mrs.  Crofton  looked  out  at  the  lost  evening  that 
had  given  her  a  renewal  of  peace  as  its  farewell.  She 
was  saddened  that  from  one  soul  at  least  it  got  so 
poor  a  response  to  its  benediction. 

"Everything  that  happens  is  an  event.  What  is  the 
matter  with  many  people  is  that  they  can't  separate  the 
trivial  ones  from  the  eternal  ones." 

"That's  what  I  mean." 

"To  really  be  alive  and  feel,"  went  on  Mrs.  Crofton 
thoughtfully,  "one  has  just  to  be  alive  to  the  things 
that  go  on  happening  every  minute,  and  enjoying 
them." 

"One  might  hate  them," 


60  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Hating  them  isn't  being  alive  at  all.  It's  being  ill. 
If  one  keeps  one's  sense  of  beauty  clean  and  fresh  then 
one  gets  to  recognise  the  things  that  are  really  worth 
feeling.  And  the  best  things  are  always  coming  again 
and  again  like  the  evenings  and  sunsets  and  flowers. 
But  people  look  forward  too  much,  you  know,  to  what 
may  happen.  Looking  forward  is  letting  the  future 
drag  you  on  too  fast.  It  makes  young  people  old. 
When  one's  old,  one  looks  back  and  that's  nearly  the 
same  thing.  It  keeps  you  old.  It's  the  'now'  that 
matters." 

"Don't  you  ever  look  forward?"  asked  Stella  curi- 
ously. She  could  make  nothing  of  Mrs.  Crofton's 
point  of  view,  but  it  roused  a  dormant  curiosity. 

"Oh,  yes,  pleasantly.  But  I  don't  invest  all  my  in- 
terest in  the  future.  It's  here  now,  in  everything  one 
does  all  day.  The  future  may  be  full  of  beautiful 
things  for  me,  but  I  am  not  going  to  lose  what  I 
actually  possess  in  worrying  over  them  to-day." 

"It  may  be  full  of  horrible  things." 

Mrs.  Crofton  leant  forward  and  tried  to  see  the 
half-averted  face  of  the  girl.  She  was  sorry  for 
her,  but  not  quite  satisfied,  as  to  the  cause  of  her  pessi- 
mism. 

"My  dear,  what  has  gone  wrong  with  your  to-day 
that  you  mistrust  to-morrow  so  bitterly?" 

Then,  since  Stella  did  not  answer,  she  added 
quickly, 

"Don't  tell  me,  if  you  don't  want  to.  I  did  not  mean 
to  be  curious,  but  it's  all  wrong,  your  thinking  like 
that!" 

Stella  leant  back  in  her  chair  and  still  seemed  to 
hesitate.  She  meant  to  tell  Mrs.  Crofton  her  story,  or 
at  least  some  of  it.  She  could  not  have  resisted  the 
temptation  in  any  case,  and  she  was  possessed  with  the 
odd  idea  that  Mrs.  Crofton  would  understand  it  better 
than  any  one  else.  Her  hesitation  was  due  to  th§ 


FELICITY  CROFTON  61 

doubt  as  to  whether  Mark  had  told  this  friend  of  his 
his  own  version  of  the  episode  she  chose  to  consider 
had  spoilt  her  life.  Stella's  lack  of  capacity  to  under- 
stand others  extended  to  her  brother,  of  whom  she 
might  reasonably  be  expected  to  know  something, 
but  whose  springs  of  action  were  undiscovered  coun- 
try to  his  sister.  It  would  not  have  displeased  her  to 
be  the  subject  of  discussion  with  a  stranger,  but  she 
was  not  certain  that  Mark's  account  would  be  sympa- 
thetic. 

"I  should  like  to  tell  you,"  she  said  slowly.  "I  was 
only  seventeen  when  I  fell  in  love  with  a  man  who 
pretended  to  care  for  me.  Then  I  found  out  he  was 
married.  I  ought  to  have  been  very  angry,  I  suppose, 
but  I  was  only  wretched.  Every  one  seemed  to  think 
it  was  my  fault.  I  wrote  to  him,  which  I  suppose 
will  shock  you,  and  when  he  did  not  answer  the  letter 
I  went  to  see  him.  Mark  fetched  me  back  and  there 
was  a  terrible  scene  between  him  and  Mark.  After 
that  I  was" — she  hesitated  a  second — "I  was  ill  and 
nervous,  and  Mark  made  Mother  send  me  to  a  doctor 
in  Germany.  I  was  very  miserable  there,  but  I  got 
better.  Now  I  am  home  again.  Every  one  in  the  place 
knows  I  cared  for  the  man,  and  they  are  not  nice  to 
me,  and  Mother  goes  on  thinking  my  heart  is  broken, 
and  that  all  is  over  for  me.  Sometimes  I  think  so,  too. 
It  is  dreadful  to  be  only  twenty  and  feel  all  is  over!" 

The  real  tragedy  in  her  voice  was  terrible,  whatever 
the  cause.  Yet,  even  so,  some  note  in  it  prevented 
Mrs.  Crof ton  taking  the  girl  in  her  arms  and  showing 
her  where  lay  the  true  tragedy  of  her  dull  little  story. 
She  felt  at  heart  that  what  Stella  needed  was  not  pity 
so  much  as  bracing  criticism  and  she  gave  it  as  kindly 
and  gently  as  only  she  could  do. 

"But  it's  hardly  begun!  You  must  never  allow 
yourself  to  think  that  because  you've  made  a  mistake 
once,  that  life's  going  to  cast  it  back  on  you  all  the 


62  FELICITY  CROFTON 

time!  If  that  were  so,  where  would  any  of  us  be? 
We  all  make  mistakes  some  time  or  other.  The  great- 
est mistake  of  all  is  to  go  on  remembering  it.  Of 
course,"  she  went  on  dreamily,  after  a  little  pause,  in 
which  Stella  made  a  faint  movement  of  her  hands, 
dimly  discernible  in  the  dark — she  had  white  and 
pretty  hands — "of  course,  Love  is  never  trivial.  It 
always  stands  for  something  in  life,  whether  it's  a 
mistake  or  not,  as  to  the  final  result.  Every  time  one 
falls  in  love,  till  the  big  thing  comes  along,  one  should 
find  one's  capacity  for  love  deepen  and  widen.  It's 
all  going  to  school.  Here  and  there  one  gets  a  soul 
with  a  genius  for  love  that  needs  no  schooling,  but 
springs  to  its  pinnacle  at  once,  but  for  most  of  us  ordi- 
nary mortals  training  is  necessary." 

Most  assuredly  Stella  was  experiencing  something 
new  now,  if  she  could  recognise  it.  It  was  not  the 
first  time  she  had  told  her  story,  though  she  had  never 
related  it  in  precisely  those  cold,  dull  words  before; 
but  it  had  never  been  received  in  quite  this  spirit,  and 
the  novelty  was  not  displeasing. 

"Most  people  believe  one  can  only  love  once,"  she 
said  doubtfully.  She  was  not  going  to  succumb  to 
Mrs.  Crofton  too  easily.  She  must  feel  sure,  before 
she  abandoned  her  role  of  unhappy  heroine,  that  she 
would  reap  some  advantage  from  a  change  of  view. 

"Most  people  are — stupid,"  laughed  the  other.  "It 
would  be  a  sad  life  for  many  if  one  could  only  love 
once !  I  am  not  speaking,"  she  went  on,  with  a  deeper 
note  in  her  voice,  "of  that  love  I  call  genius,  but  of 
that  which  falls  to  the  lot  of  most  of  us  mortals.  God 
help  us  if  we  are  only  to  feel  it  once  in  our  lives! 
You'll  fall  in  love  again  some  day — oh,  yes,  you  will. 
There  are  plenty  of  nice,  honest,  straight  men  in  the 
world  worth  loving,  and  a  very  good  touchstone  of  the 
worth  of  the  love  you  have  to  offer  them  is  whether, 
Vi  loving,  you  find  your  heart  opens  wider  to  all  the 


FELICITY  CROFTON  63 

rest  of  the  world,  or  shuts  itself  up  and  the  man  you 
love  with  it.  If  it  does  that,  it's  not  genuine  but  spuri- 
ous love.  What  you  have  to  do  is  to  stop  thinking 
once  and  for  all  about  what  you  call  your  mistake. 
It's  done  with.  You  have  learnt  something.  Learnt, 
for  example,  that  love  can  override  all  conventions. 
I  expect  it  was  quite  a  real  thing,  that  love  of  yours, 
for  the  time.  But  don't  take  what's  happened  too 
seriously.  Almost  every  other  woman  you  meet  will 
have  made  a  muddle  over  her  love  affairs  some  time  or 
other.  Either  she  hasn't  recognised  it,  or  she's  missed 
it,  or  she's  lost  it.  If  we  were  all  to  sit  down  and  think 
our  life  was  ended  because  love  for  the  nonce  had 
flown  out  of  the  window,  it  would  be  a  dull  world.  I 
think,"  she  added,  bending  forward  and  stroking 
Stella's  arm  gently,  "that  it  was  nice  of  you  to  tell  me 
about  it.  Now  make  up  your  mind  to  bury  it  and 
never,  never  own  you  are  beaten,  because  of  one  little 
experience." 

Stella  wondered,  as  she  followed  Mrs.  Crofton  in- 
doors, whether  any  particular  meaning  lay  behind  her 
words.  Had  she,  or  had  she  not,  noticed  Adam  Pres- 
ton's behaviour? 

Veronica  and  Bessington  were  in  the  drawing-room 
at  the  piano.  There  was  a  shadow  of  reproach  in  Bes- 
sington's  eyes  as  he  met  Mrs.  Crofton's  apologetic 
look.  The  meshes  that  drew  him  were  very  tangled 
now.  He  had  had  a  fight  with  himself  to  resist  the 
lure  of  the  night  and  a  walk  which  Veronica  proposed. 
The  night  was  for  lovers  and  he  was  not  yet  a  de- 
clared one.  He  thought  with  vague  unreason  that 
Mrs.  Crofton  ought  to  have  known  to  what  a  trial  her 
long  absence  had  put  his  ideas  of  fit  and  proper  be- 
haviour. 

Stella  Forrester  went  away  two  days  after  her  talk 
with  Mrs.  Crofton.  Her  regret  at  leaving  was  un- 
doubtedly a  shade  more  genuine  than  the  kindly 


64  FELICITY  CROFTON 

worded  farewells  of  her  new  friends.  Veronica's  sole 
remark,  when  she  was  actually  gone,  was,  "Poor  old 
Mark!  How  she  must  bore  him!"  Mr.  Eraser  said 
diffidently  to  his  sister  that  he  did  not  consider  Miss 
Forrester  quite  like  her  usual  guests,  to  which  she  had 
replied  that,  "One  pattern  made  for  monotony,"  but 
in  her  heart  of  hearts  she  was  glad  that  Stella  had  gone 
and  a  little  ashamed  of  it.  It  was  impossible  to  dis- 
cover any  adequate  reason  for  her  strange  sensation  of 
mistrust.  She  was  not  unused  to  meeting  girls  with 
a  morbid  tendency,  and  not  infrequently  acted  as  a 
very  efficient  doctor  for  the  insidious  disease.  But  in 
this  case  her  will  to  do  anything  was  strangely  dor- 
mant. She  was  sorry  for  Stella,  and  for  Mark's  sake 
she  wanted  to  do  what  she  could  for  her.  But  she 
was  a  creature  of  instinct.  The  help  she  gave  so  liber- 
ally to  her  world  was  spontaneous.  She  laid  no  plans, 
she  acted  on  no  rule,  she  did  not  even  correctly  gauge 
her  own  use.  Only  when  occasions  came  her  way 
and  she  felt  the  impulse  to  straighten  out  some  tangle 
or  help  some  prematurely  crippled  wayfarer  along  the 
road,  she  acted  on  that  impulse  to  the  full  measure. 
Here  no  impulse  was  behind  her.  Nothing  stronger 
than  a  mere  wish  to  be  kind,  if  she  could,  to  Mark 
Forrester's  sister. 

She  had  driven  to  the  station  with  Stella  to  see  her 
off  and  found  Adam  there.  He  professed  less  surprise 
at  seeing  them  than  Stella  did  at  his  presence.  He 
supplied  her  with  papers  and  chocolates  to  last  two 
such  journeys  as  lay  before  her.  Afterwards  he  drove 
back  with  Madre  and  talked  of  the  latest  comic  opera 
till  they  were  mounting  the  hill.  Then,  when  a  little 
silence  had  fallen  between  them,  Mrs.  Crofton  said : 

"How  did  you  know  that  Stella  was  going  by  this 
train?" 

"She  told  me  so  last  night." 

"She  only  settled  it  this  morning." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  65 

He  gave  a  little  frown  and  moved  uneasily. 

"Well,  I  suppose  she  wasn't  quite  sure  till  this  morn- 
ing. She  said  she  might  go  by  it." 

That  might  certainly  have  been  true.  Felicity  gave 
her  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 

"She  seemed  very  surprised  to  see  you." 

"I  hadn't  said  I  was  coming." 

She  found  it  harder  to  give  Stella  the  benefit  this 
time.  If  she  had  mentioned  a  time  at  all  to  Adam,  it 
should  have  been  perfectly  clear  to  her  he  would  prob- 
ably turn  up  at  that  time.  She  sighed  a  little. 

"Miss  Forrester  is  shy,"  said  Adam  abruptly,  "and 
she  gets  nervous  and  confused  when  people  are  just 
decently  polite  to  her.  I  should  think  the  poor  girl  had 
a  pretty  rotten  time  of  it,  altogether.  Pieceminster  is 
an  awful  hole." 

"She  is  pretty,  don't  you  think,  Adam?" 

"Ripping,  but  awfully  delicate.  I  wonder  if  she  is 
properly  looked  after." 

"Her  mother  is  quite  old  and  seems  wrapped  up  in 
Mark." 

"It  was  jolly  of  you  to  ask  her,  Madre." 

"I  did  it  to  oblige  Mark,  not  you,"  she  answered, 
laughing. 

"So  I  supposed." 

She  looked  him  straight  in  the  face. 

"Are  you  in  love  wth  her,  Eve  ?" 

He  met  her  eyes  quite  frankly,  but  she  was  aware 
of  a  veil  dropped  between  his  real  thought  and  her- 
self. 

"I'm  sorry  for  her,"  he  said.  "Girls  seem  to  have 
a  beastly  time.  I'm  glad  I'm  not  one !" 

"And  you  would  make  such  a  pretty  one!"  she  re- 
turned teasingly,  just  in  revenge  for  his  lack  of  confi- 
dence in  her. 

"Every  one  has  their  misfortune  to  bear." 

He  would  not  give  her  a  chance  of  "rotting"  him. 


66  FELICITY  CROFTON 

He  was  aware  that  she  was  the  least  bit  hurt  by  his 
evasion  of  her  direct  question.  He  liked  being  treated 
directly,  as  Madre  well  knew,  and  he  would  have  liked 
to  give  her  a  direct  answer,  but  he  did  not  know  him- 
self what  the  answer  was,  and  at  present  he  was 
not  particularly  anxious  to  know.  Stella  Forrester 
interested  him  in  a  disturbing  way.  She  was  pretty. 
She  looked  delicate  and  she  was  unhappy.  He  hated 
to  see  anything  unhappy  that  was  unable  to  help  itself ; 
and  she  was,  he  thought,  very  shy.  He  imagined  he 
understood  her  completely,  that  she  was  afraid  of  him 
for  some  silly  reason  which  rather  put  him  on  his 
mettle  to  prove  his  own  harmlessness.  In  his  heart  of 
hearts  he  thought  he  was  in  love,  but  he  prided  himself 
on  being  sufficiently  level-headed  to  know  that  love 
had  no  serious  place  in  the  timetable  of  a  young  man 
aspiring  to  a  commission  in  His  Majesty's  army,  and 
he  had  no  particular  inclination  for  a  flirtation,  at 
least  with  "a  poor,  hardly  used,  little  thing"  like  Mark's 
sister.  It  was  more  satisfactory  to  think  he  really  did 
not  know  his  own  mind,  and  that  that  was  lucky,  since 
it  was  quite  evident  that  Miss  Forrester  did  not  care 
for  him! 

Mrs.  Crofton  was  a  little  comforted.  She  had 
never  deceived  herself  into  imagining  that  Adam's  lack 
of  impressibility  was  a  sign  of  incapacity  for  passion, 
once  he  was  roused.  But  she  decided  that  he  hadn't 
been  roused  by  Stella  Forrester,  and,  considering  their 
respective  ages,  that  it  was  a  fortunate  thing.  She 
slept  much  the  better  for  having  come  to  that  decision. 


IV 

Bessington  saw  more  of  Mrs.  Crofton  than  of  her 
daughter  during  the  following  sunny  days.  It  was 
of  deliberate  intent  on  his  part  and  not  of  necessity, 
for  Veronica  included  him  in  every  undertaking  and 


FELICITY  CROFTON  67 

was  only  resignedly  tolerant  of  his  preoccupation  with 
her  mother.  To  Bessington  himself  the  whole  atmos- 
phere was  so  impregnated  with  Veronica,  the  whole 
little  world  so  revolved  round  her,  that  he  felt  he 
could  not  in  the  present  position  of  affairs  hear  her 
actual  presence  too  often  if  he  was  to  retain  his  hold 
on  solid  ground.  He  retained  it  best  in  Mrs.  Crofton's 
company.  His  liking  grew  with  his  appreciation  of 
that  intangible  sense  of  fellowship  which  seemed  the 
very  essence  of  her  being.  He  began  to  understand 
how  in  her  company  the  sorrows  of  the  world  became 
not  more  supportable  but  of  less  consequence,  mere 
ghosts  of  an  unreal  victory;  how  even  evil  things 
seemed  to  loose  their  primary  significance  in  her  way 
of  viewing  them  from  a  new  standpoint. 

One  small  conversation  on  these  matters  remained 
very  firmly  fixed  in  his  mind.  They  had  been  speaking 
of  some  obscure  and  ugly  newspaper  case — it  was  not 
Bessington  who  brought  it  up,  but  Mr.  Fraser,  who 
had  diffidently  warned  Felicity  that  the  daily  paper 
would  be  unedifying  reading  for  Veronica  that  day. 

"As  much  as  interests  her  will  be,"  said  Felicity 
cheerfully.  "Veronica  can't  endure  anything  ugly. 
She'd  turn  her  back  on  all  shadows  if  she  could !" 

When  her  brother  had  gone,  she  spoke  again  to  Bes- 
sington as  if  her  words  required  explanation. 

"That  is  quite  true  about  Veronica.  She  really 
wouldn't  be  interested.  Of  course  I  know  all  girls  are 
not  like  that.  The  world  labels  certain  things  as  evil 
and  the  very  label  spreads  the  disease.  Yet  even  in 
this  case  there  are  conceivably  countries  where  the 
whole  affair  would  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  virtue. 
The  label  does  mischief." 

"But  some  things  are  fundamentally  evil,"  he  ar- 
gued. 

Felicity  knit  her  brows  in  a  puzzled  way. 

"Yes,  that  is  so — and  yet  what  is  evil?" 


68  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"The  world  still  awaits  that  definition." 

"Well,  I  think  evil  is  not  an  entity  in  itself.  It  is  a 
comparative  condition.  It  is  that  which  is  incompati- 
ble to  the  ideal  of  God.  Think  it  out.  You  will  see 
how  it  fits  and  simplifies  matters." 

She  did  not  often  give  him  glimpses  of  her  hidden 
beliefs  and  secret  faiths  in  this  way,  but  he  grew 
aware  of  their  existence,  aware  that  her  infectious  joy 
in  the  present  and  her  keen  appreciation  of  visible  life 
was  built  upon  a  foundation  hewn  with  laborious 
thought  out  of  the  very  centre  of  her  soul. 

He  also,  in  these  few  days,  made  a  discovery  con- 
cerning her  relationship  to  Veronica,  which  seemed 
to  create  a  fresh  tie  between  them,  although  unvoiced 
and  unvoicable. 

Felicity's  passionate  love  for  her  child  was  not  only 
maternal  instinct.  Veronica  was  to  her  something 
more  than  a  being  of  her  own  making,  she  was  an 
incarnation  of  that  youth  and  joyousness  which  she 
held  as  the  essence  of  life.  She  would  watch  Veronica 
with  precisely  the  same  glow  of  sharp  pleasure  she 
experienced  in  watching  Eve.  All  her  movements,  her 
smiles,  her  grace,  her  exquisite  beauty,  stirred  her  with 
a  rapture  that  was  purely  impersonal.  Bessington  con- 
ceived the  idea  that  to  maintain  that  beauty  and  grace 
and  that  immaculate  spirit  of  youth,  Felicity  Crofton 
had  sacrificed  and  would  sacrifice  herself  without  a 
murmur,  and  that  the  little  strain  of  selfishness  in  Ve- 
ronica— of  which  Bessington  was  fully  aware — was 
due  to  this.  Felicity,  with  the  courageous  eyes,  ac- 
cepted Veronica's  little  easy  shirking  of  the  disagree- 
ables in  life  with  a  smile  and  shouldered  any  extra 
trouble  incurred  cheerfully.  And  Bessington  shared 
her  sentiments.  He,  too,  would  preserve  Veronica  as 
she  was.  That  very  selfishness  sprang  from  the  clean 
egoism  of  youth,  which  believes  the  world  its  own  eter- 
nal heritage.  He  sat  talking  to  Mrs.  Crofton  one  day 


FELICITY  CROFTON  69 

while  Veronica  played  with  a  puppy  on  the  lawn,  and 
sometimes  Mrs.  Crofton  would  lose  the  thread  of 
talk  and  find  it  tangled  up  with  the  puppy's  string,  and 
sometimes  Bessington  found  his  companion's  clear 
voice  become  dim  and  uncertain,  lost  behind  an  echo  of 
pretty  laughter,  and  the  garden  shut  out  in  a  golden  haze. 

For  Veronica  stirred  him  as  nothing  on  earth  had 
stirred  him;  taught  him  primitive  truths  that  he  had 
merely  accepted  hitherto  as  physiological  facts;  de- 
stroyed his  balance,  upset  his  reason,  and  created  of 
his  ordinary  alert  mind  a  chaos  she  alone  could  restore 
to  order. 

As  to  what  chance  he  stood  with  regard  to  Veron- 
ica's favour,  he  could  form  no  conception  of  it.  She 
made  no  disguise  of  the  fact  that  she  liked  him.  She 
showed  a  spirit  of  complete  friendliness;  she  was  dis- 
posed to  grumble  a  little  at  what  she  considered  her 
mother's  monopoly  of  him.  All  this  was  not  love ;  not 
even  the  beginning  of  it.  Yet  now  and  again  Bessing- 
ton caught  a  fugitive  glance  in  her  candid  eyes  that 
made  him  catch  his  breath,  for  it  opened  gates  of  won- 
der. It  was  as  if  the  Hidden  Woman,  the  still  sleep- 
ing princess,  stirred  in  her  sleeping.  There  was  some 
faint  movement  in  the  flower  petals  round  her,  some 
deeper,  slower  breathing  than  the  quick,  light  breaths 
of  the  child.  None  but  he  must  wake  her.  This  won- 
der of  womanhood  must  be  for  him  alone,  must  wake 
for  him,  stay  with  him,  be  his  alone!  The  mere 
thought  of  such  a  possibility  flooded  his  soul  with 
alternate  day  and  night  of  pride  and  humbleness.  Yet 
in  his  heart  he  knew  he  wanted  Veronica's  mother  to 
stand  by  him  and  see  this  miracle,  and  be  content  with 
it  and  him! 


Alexander  Fraser  watched  all  three.     His  habitual 
air  of  anxious  solicitude  towards  his  sister  took  on  a 


70 

new  tenderness.  Watching  her,  his  mind  would  go 
back  over  the  stormy  years  to  the  difficult,  impossible 
days  when  he  was  already  a  grown  man,  struggling 
towards  the  shore  of  attainment  on  the  plank  of  schol- 
arships, and  Felicity  was  a  child  fretting  with  all  her 
restless  energy  and  fearless  courage  against  the  narrow 
limits  to  existence  decreed  by  an  aunt,  whose  horizon 
was  bounded  by  the  strictest  convention  and  whose  am- 
bitions saw  no  further  than  a  "suitable"  marriage. 
He  thought  with  a  renewed  access  of  pity  of  those 
strong,  young  wings  beating  against  barriers  the  young 
eyes  could  not  see.  He  thought  of  that  hastily  ar- 
ranged, most  desirable  marriage — the  desperate,  igno- 
rant spring  for  liberty,  into  a  cage  whose  barriers 
were  visible  enough  and  of  iron.  Of  the  struggle 
there  he  would  not  think,  indeed  he  knew  nothing  of 
it;  it  was  hidden  in  a  silence  that  had  never  been 
broken  by  words. 

Then  the  golden,  sunny  years  of  freedom.  The  ful- 
ness of  life  and  the  unquenched  spirit  of  youth,  blos- 
soming so  bravely,  undaunted  by  its  retarded  spring. 
He  still  thought  of  Felicity  as  a  girl  to  whom  all  was 
still  possible.  He  understood  her  steady  refusal  to 
marry,  but  then  he  had  never  yet  seen  the  man  he 
considered  entitled  to  marry  her.  So  he  had  hitherto 
thought.  Now  he  was  less  sure! 

VI 

"You  don't  shine  at  steering,  Veronica,  either  in  a 
boat  or  a  toboggan,"  sighed  Bessington,  as  he  pulled 
the  boat's  head  out  of  a  bed  of  rushes  for  the  third 
time. 

"I  prefer  some  one  else  doing  it.  Besides,  how  can 
one  steer  and  talk  ?" 

"It's  been  done,"  he  asserted  cheerfully,  "Would 
you  rather  row?" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  71 

"Not  for  worlds !    I  am  far  too  comfortable." 

She  looked  it.  She  looked  also  the  personification 
of  a  June  day.  The  cushions  round  her  were  green, 
her  dress  white,  and  under  the  shadow  of  her  wide 
hat  her  blue  eyes  looked  at  him  with  meditative  con- 
tent. He  wondered  why  at  times  they  were  so  inscrut- 
able. They  seemed  to  hold  no  medium  between  sweet 
fresh  candour  and  this  meditative  secrecy. 

But  Bessington  had  not  yet  arrived  at  the  point 
when  he  could  discuss  her  eyes  with  her,  so  he  re- 
turned to  the  question  of  steering. 

"I  could  make  shift,  perhaps,  to  row  and  steer,  too," 
he  suggested,  expecting  to  see  her  flash  with  indigna- 
tion. Instead,  she  dropped  the  tiller  lines  with  a  sigh 
of  relief. 

"How  clever  of  you.  I  thought  no  one  but  Eve 
could  do  that.  You  ought  to  have  a  little  glass  fixed 
in  front  of  you  so  you  could  see  what's  coming." 

"Who  would  believe  you  were  the  energetic  player 
of  tennis  this  morning,"  he  groaned,  with  pretended 
indignation. 

"One  can't  be  energetic  all  day.  Never  in  a  boat. 
I  wish  Madre  could  have  come!  She  steers  beauti- 
fully." 

Bessington  felt  he  ought  to  have  resented  the  wish, 
even  on  the  merits  of  steering,  but  though  he  had  been 
and  was  still  exhilarated  with  the  joy  of  rowing  Ve- 
ronica all  by  herself  up  the  shady  reaches  of  the  river, 
he  did  not  feel  that  Mrs.  Crofton's  presence  would 
have  interfered  very  greatly  with  that  joy.  She  would 
so  have  appreciated  the  river — and  Veronica ! 

"I  can't  imagine  why  people  think  they  have  a  right 
to  send  for  Madre  directly  something  unpleasant  hap- 
pens," grumbled  Veronica,  but  as  one  tired  of  this  par- 
ticular complaint. 

"I  can  imagine  why  they  want  to,"  he  answered,  pull- 
ing hard  again. 


72 

"Oh,  yes.  But,  after  all,  one  wants  lots  of  things 
one  doesn't  ask  for.  If  Mr.  Lyle  had  died  when  we 
were  abroad,  Mrs.  Lyle  would  have  had  to  do  as  she 
could.  Well,  I  am  glad  I'm  not  Madre!" 

"You  don't  like  depressing  things?" 

"No,  I  don't!"  quite  vehemently.  "Who  does? 
Only  some  people  know  what  to  do  and  say  when  they 
come  up  against  them  and  some  don't — I  don't!  I 
want  to  run  away  at  once  and  look  at  something 
nice." 

She  was  entirely  unashamed  of  her  unheroic  atti- 
tude, and  Bessington  was  not  much  concerned  by  it. 
It  would  have  concerned  him  far  more  to  see  her 
struggling  to  do  violence  to  her  feelings  in  the  face 
of  ugly  facts.  Since  there  were  no  ugly  facts,  how- 
ever, he  permitted  himself  one  question. 

"Suppose  there  was  no  one  but  you  to  deal  with  it?" 

"Then  I  suppose  I  should  have  to  face  it.  But  I 
hope  sincerely  there  always  will  be — some  one  else!" 

She  trailed  her  hand  idly  in  the  water,  the  rudder 
lines  lying  limply  beside  her. 

Through  the  grey-green  foliage  of  the  willows  the 
bordering  meadows  glowed  golden  with  sunlight  and 
buttercups.  Beside  the  reed  beds  the  brown  rippling 
water  offered  wavering  reflections  and  caught  and 
played  roughly  with  the  trailing  water  plants  and  flow- 
ers that  bordered  the  edges.  There  was  a  little  creek 
ahead,  and  Bessington's  intention  was  to  turn  into  it. 
Apparently  he  altered  his  mind,  and  instead  rowed  on 
rather  rapidly.  His  quick  eyes  had  seen,  as  he  glanced 
round,  a  dead  dog  lying  on  the  bank  half  in  and  half 
out  of  the  water. 

He  hoped  she  had  not  seen  it.  It  was  an  instinctive 
hope,  absurdly  strong.  She  was  gazing  ahead,  lean- 
ing forward  with  her  chin  on  her  hands.  Her  eyes 
not  smiling,  but  full  of  mysterious  shadows. 

They  shot  round  a  bend  of  the  river  and  he  heard 


FELICITY  CROFTON  73 

her  give  a  little  sigh  of  relief.  He  knew  then  she 
had  seen  it. 

A  golden  afternoon — a  golden  hour!  Bessington 
forgot  his  intention  of  studying  what  lay  behind  this 
beautiful  child.  What  did  it  matter  when  the  Veron- 
ica before  his  eyes  made  his  head  swim  with  joy  of 
beholding,  when  her  voice  set  a  song  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  a  whole  world  of  lovely  things!  It  was  quite 
enough  that  she  existed.  He  did  not  want  to  under- 
stand. He  lured  her  on  to  nonsense  again,  and  she 
followed  his  lure  so  easily.  The  shadow  in  her  eyes 
disappeared  and  the  smile  took  its  place.  A  golden 
hour ! 

They  rowed  up  as  far  as  the  Rapids,  and  drifted 
home  again  in  the  sunset.  Once  when  the  river  be- 
fore and  behind  them  was  empty,  she  broke  into  song. 
He  let  the  boat  drift  along  while  he  listened.  When 
she  had  finished  her  little  verse,  he  just  nodded  ap- 
proval. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  your  voice?"  he 
asked  meditatively. 

"Sing  to  Madre.     What  should  I  do  with  it?" 

"Sing  to  the  world !" 

She  laughed.  "The  world  has  got  plenty  of  people 
to  sing  to  it  and  it  doesn't  interest  me.  Would  you 
like  me  to  sing  to  it?" 

"Not  at  all,"  he  returned  a  little  grimly.  "I  was 
speaking  conventionally.  People  are  always  supposed 
to  do  something  when  they  have  a  gift.  I  am  glad 
you  are  not  conventional." 

Presently  she  grew  silent  for  so  long  that  he  asked 
her  what  she  was  thinking  about. 

"I  was  thinking  what  a  lot  of  nice  days  there  are  in 
a  year,  and  how  I  should  like  to  make  a  necklace  of 
them  to  wear  forever." 

"To-day  with  them  ?"  he  demanded,  with  a  sense  of 
breathlessness. 


74  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Yes;  it's  been  lovely — and  I'd  thread  it  on  the 
sunset.  Look  at  it !" 

He  turned  and  saw  the  transfigured  sky  all  rose  and 
gold.  Little  detached  clouds,  like  the  pink  petals  of 
a  fallen  rose,  were  scattered  about  the  sky.  The  light 
spread  and  spread  and  flooded  the  river,  dyed  the  back 
eddies  crimson,  and  turned  the  bordering  willows  to 
gold. 

"I  will  make  a  necklace,  too,"  he  said  in  rather  a 
low  voice,  whereat  she  laughed. 

"Men  can't  wear  them !    It  would  be  no  use  to  you !" 

"I  could  give  it  away,"  he  answered  slowly. 

"Well,  you  can't  take  to-day,  because  I've  bespoken 
it." 

Of  all  the  hundred  pretty  answers  he  might  have 
made  her  he  uttered  none.  Had  the  sleeping  princess 
stirred,  or  was  it  his  fancy?  Madre  would  know. 
It  was  the  first  time  he  had  caught  himself  actually 
thinking  of  her  so  by  the  endearing  Italian  name  they 
one  and  all  gave  her.  Madre,  then,  was  the  guardian 
of  this  Princess,  and  without  her  permission  he  could 
take  no  step  further  on  this  great  adventure.  He 
would  lose  no  more  time. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  75 


CHAPTER  III 
'The  Man  of  Her  Choice' 


IT  was  Sunday  evening.  The  little  party  from  the 
Haven,  Alexander  Fraser,  his  guest,  and  a  few  pupils, 
were  seated  on  the  wide  steps  of  the  south  front  of 
Priest's  Park.  The  day  had  been  hot  and  airless,  but 
with  sunset  a  little  freshness  had  drifted  across  the 
earth.  The  long  beds  below  the  steps  were  full  of 
white  lilies  and  the  scent  of  them  hung  on  the  air. 
Westward  over  the  tree-tops  the  faint  afterglow  of  a 
solemn  sunset  clung  to  the  sky,  and  far  below  them  the 
grey  city  set  out  her  innumerable  stars  in  faint  re- 
proach to  a  starless  sky,  where  later  the  moon  would 
take  command.  Now  at  this  hour  between  dusk  and 
dark  a  mantle  of  opalescent  tints  was  wrapped  round 
the  earth  and  invited  peace.  Down  in  the  woods  a 
nightingale  sang  fitfully,  as  not  yet  sure  of  an  audi- 
ence. 

The  little  group  talked  by  fits  and  starts,  mostly  of 
trivial  things,  for  young  men  (and  they  predominated) 
are  not  prone  to  give  away  their  appreciation  of  na- 
ture's moods.  Alexander  Fraser  himself  leant  back  in 
his  chair,  thinking  of  far-off  days  beyond  the  reach  of 
memory,  and  it  was  Felicity  who  put  his  unspoken 
thoughts  into  words. 

"I  love  to  think,"  she  said  slowly,  "how  long  ago, 
when  there  was  no  city  here,  down  there,  nor  any  work 


76  FELICITY  CROFTON 

of  man  visible,  the  evenings  came  on  just  like  this  and 
the  earth  waited  for  the  moonrise  as  we  wait,  and  it 
was  all  just  as  lovely  and  perfect  as  now,  though  no 
man  saw  it.  It  gives  a  sort  of  surety  to  it  going  on 
even  when  men  are  not  here." 

"Going  on  still  richer  in  beauty,"  put  in  her  brother  ; 
"for  isn't  all  this  before  us  the  richer  for  the  thoughts 
that  it  has  inspired  in  men?  At  least  we  are  richer 
who  have  learnt  to  see  not  only  with  our  eyes  but 
theirs,  too !" 

Veronica,  who  was  leaning  against  his  chair,  think- 
ing of  nothing  in  particular,  but  just  blissfully  happy 
because  it  was  all  so  nice  and  comfy  and  pretty,  said : 

"There  won't  be  anything  original  to  think  of  soon, 
so  I  am  glad  I  am  alive  now,  before  it's  all  quite  used 
up." 

"Like  a  queen  enchanted  who  may  not  laugh  or  weep," 
"How  does  it  go  on  ?"  began  a  voice. 

"Girt  about  by  beauty  by  days  and  nights  that  creep, 
Soft  as  breathless  ripples  that  softly  shoreward  creep, 
Lies  the  lovely  city  whose  grace  no  grief  deflowers" 

so  quoted  Felicity. 

"I  suppose  that  means  it  hasn't  any  tragic  history," 
said  Adam.  "All  the  same,  there's  a  good  deal  down 
there  which  isn't  grace,  if  the  poet  Johnny  means 
beauty.  It's  all  right  from  here,  looking  down." 

"One  has  to  be  up  high  before  one  can  look  down  at 
anything,"  retorted  Veronica. 

"I  never  could  understand  poetry,"  he  answered  un- 
abashed. 

"Swinburne's  all  right,"  put  in  the  first  voice  that 
had  started  the  quotation.  "He  doesn't  go  messing 
round  with  daisies  and  cockleshells.  He  writes  about 
big  things." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  77 

"Mountains  and  railway  engines,"  suggested  Veron- 
ica wickedly.  "And  what  has  size  to  do  with  it?" 

"Subject,  not  size,  matters,"  said  the  first  speaker 
rather  sulkily. 

Veronica  soothed  him  down. 

"I  know  you  are  right,  of  course.  Madre  loves 
Swinburne.  But  I'm  like  Eve.  I  can't  really  under- 
stand poetry;  only  when  the  words  come  in  a  nice, 
flowing,  rolling  sort  of  way  I  love  to  hear  it.  It  mes- 
merizes me." 

Alexander  Fraser  began  in  a  soft  undervoice  to 
recite  a  Greek  poem.  Veronica,  completely  happy, 
snuggled  against  his  chair  again. 

"That's  lovely,"  she  said,  as  he  finished.  "And  I 
don't  in  the  least  want  to  know  what  it's  about.  Sounds 
are  much  nicer  than  meanings." 

The  others  laughed  and  proceeded  to  tease  her  mildly 
by  quoting  long  lines,  genuine  and  spurious,  which  she 
proceeded  to  criticise. 

Meanwhile  Felicity  and  Dominic  Bessington  had 
gone  away.  He  had  seen  her  rise  and  go  towards  the 
lily  bed  and  stop  there  to  scent  up  their  fragrance  and 
he  followed  her.  They  both  walked  to  the  end  of  the 
long  path  in  silence  and  went  down  the  steps  to  the 
lower  terrace.  They  had  not  spoken  for  some  minutes, 
and  when  they  did  Bessington  went  straight  to  the 
point. 

"I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Veronica,  Mrs.  Crof- 
ton,"  he  said  quietly. 

She  did  not  answer  at  once.  She  had  not  been 
wholly  unprepared  for  this;  indeed,  she  had  fancied 
herself  well  prepared,  but  now  it  was  on  her,  the 
event  was  more  pregnant  with  meaning  than  she  had 
thought,  and  it  was  shot  with  an  odd  streak  of  pain 
which  she  pushed  away  from  her  consciousness  sternly 
yet  with  uneasy  wonder. 

"What  of  Veronica?"  she  asked  at  length. 


78  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"I  want  to  marry  her.  Oh,  I  don't  mean  now  at 
once,  but  I  want  your  leave  to  try  to  make  her  like 
me "  He  drew  a  long  breath  and  waited. 

"Go  on,"  she  said  in  a  half-whisper;  "that's  not  all 
you  want  to  say." 

"No,  it's  not  half  of  it,  but  it's  the  gist  of  it.  I 
know  she  is  young,  too  young;  but  you  must  remem- 
ber I  have  not  many  chances  of  seeing  her,  and  if  I 
wait  without  having  done  anything,  some  one  else 
may  step  in  and  wake  her  while  I  am  away." 

She,  in  turn,  drew  a  deep  breath.  "Wake  her?  Yes, 
it's  like  that!  Well,  what  else?" 

"She  does  not  know  much  of  me,  and  you  know 
very  little  more.  She  has  not  had  much  time  to  look 
about  her,  but  even  you  can't  say  that  she  has  not  met 
other  men,  or  that  she's  seen  nothing  of  the  world. 
You  may  think  I  am  too  old  for  her.  I  am  twenty- 
eight.  I  have  never  wanted  to  marry  any  one  before 
and  I  shall  never  want  to  marry  any  one  else." 

"And  you  want  to  ask  me  if  you  may  marry  her?" 

He  had  never  thought  her  voice  could  be  so  expres- 
sionless, and  it  roused  a  fear  in  his  heart  that  he  would 
not  permit  to  grow. 

"No,"  he  said  doggedly.  "I  ask  your  permission 
to  try  for  myself  to  make  her  want  to  marry  me  and, 
if  I  succeed,  your  permission  to  do  so." 

Over  the  edge  of  the  wood  before  them  the  rim  of 
the  moon  appeared.  The  nightingale  decided  he  had 
found  his  full  voice  and  broke  into  song.  But  Felicity 
still  gazed  into  the  shadows  of  the  wood,  and  the  face 
which  she  kept  turned  from  Bessington  was  white. 

"I  don't  know  if  I  need  say  to  you  that  I  love  her," 
he  went  on,  the  steadiness  of  his  voice  giving  way  a 
little.  "I  know  it  is  love.  I  cannot  reason  with  my- 
self over  it  or  I  should  not  be  here  now,  considering 
her  age.  But  whether  it's  reasonable  or  not,  I  want 
her,  whatever  happens." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  79 

Still  she  kept  silence  and  he  was  aware  of  her  ten- 
sion now,  though  he  mistook  its  cause. 

He  concluded  with  a  certain  humbleness  of  tone 
that  caught  her  by  surprise. 

"Whether  I  am  the  kind  of  man  you  would  be 
willing  to  give  her  up  to,  I  can  not  guess.  That  is 
why  I  speak  to  you  first.  I  know  you  and  she  are 
part  of  one  another.  If  you  were  set  against  me  I 
should  have  little  chance  with  her  and  you  may  have 
different  plans  for  her." 

"If  I  had?" 

"I  should  go  on  wanting  her." 

"You  would  give,  up  trying?" 

"Only  while  she  is  so  young.  I  might  not  be  the 
one  to  wake  her  then,  but  I  should  hope  still  to  be  the 
one  to  win  her." 

"Against  my  wish?" 

"You  have  made  plans?" 

The  reproach  in  both  questions  broke  the  tension. 
Felicity  turned  to  him. 

"Plans?  Yes,  perhaps  against  my  better  judgment 
I  have  had  plans,  or  rather  I  have  indulged  in 
dreams!  What  Mother  does  not?  Oh,  you  men!" 
she  cried  with  sudden  sharp  passion.  "How  can  a 
mother  not  dream,  not  struggle  with  the  thought  that 
somewhere  out  in  the  world  there  lives  a  man  who 
will  one  day  come  and  take  her  child  from  her  and 
finish  the  work  she  has  begun — make  it  or  mar  it! 
How  many  women's  hearts  ache  with  desire  to  get 
at  this  man,  to  take  him  and  probe  into  the  depths  of 
his  soul ;  to  say  to  him :  'This  is  what  you  must  do  and 
this  what  you  must  not  do  if  you  want  her  happiness 
and  your  own!'  How  many  of  us  long  to  have  the 
training  of  him,  to  have  some  hand  in  preparing  him 
for  the  happiness  he  seeks,  to  which  you  will  have 
contributed  just  a  half!  For  a  mother,  Dominic,  can 
only  give  the  man  something  incomplete,  and  she  can 


80  FELICITY  CROFTON 

tell  him  so  little,  warn  him  so  little  of  all  the  trifles 
that  may  shatter  her  child's  happiness  and  yet  all  the 
while  she  sees,  oh,  so  much  more  clearly  than  he  sees, 
both  the  real  beauty  and  the  real  faults.  She  knows 
the  possibilities,  he  only  guesses  them,  often  never 
even  thinks  of  them !" 

She  stopped  abruptly  and  turned  away  again. 

"The  bravest  of  us  must  fear.  We  are  so  helpless! 
before  custom!  You  talk  of  age!  There  is  no  ques- 
tion of  age  if  you  can  wake  her;  of  our  separation — 
but  it  is  the  end  for  which  one  has  worked,  that  one's 
child  should  find  completeness,  and  that  she  can  only 
do  through  the  right  man!" 

"And  who  is  the  right  man?"  he  questioned  slowly. 

She  turned  to  him  impulsively,  looking  straight  in 
his  face.  There  was  light  enough  now  for  him  to  see 
behind  the  agitation  there  a  glimmer  of  great  courage, 
of  sudden  resolution,  and  he  wondered. 

"If  I  could  choose  of  all  the  men  who  have  come 
and  gone  in  my  life,"  she  said  slowly,  "I  should 
choose  to  give  my  child  to  you,  Dominic." 

For  one  moment  her  strange  agitation  communi- 
cated itself  to  him.  He  was  aware  of  curious  tension, 
of  unexplained  possibilities,  of  drifting  dreams,  and 
then  as  suddenly  it  passed  and  she  caught  his  hands, 
and  he,  holding  them,  felt  them  trembling.  He  bent 
his  head  and  kissed  them. 

Felicity  stood  quite  still,  almost  without  breathing. 
She  was  trying  to  recall  what  it  was  she  had  said,  and 
then  his  quiet  steady  voice  reassured  her. 

"I  don't  know  how  I  have  earned  that,  but  if  I  can 
win  her  I  will  do  all  a  man  may  do  to  make  her  as 
happy  as  you  have  done." 

"You  will  do  more  than  that,"  she  answered  ear- 
nestly, "because  you  will  ask  more  of  her.  I  have 
always  asked  for  too  little,  and  I  have  been  content  to 
be  grateful." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  81 

He  wanted  to  tell  her  she  was  reversing  facts,  but 
some  sense  of  humility  before  a  knowledge  at  which 
he  only  guessed,  kept  him  dumb. 

Felicity  also  seemed  to  find  it  difficult  to  speak,  but 
she  smiled  at  him  instead  and  presently  said : 

"Come  and  see  me  to-morrow.  There  are  things 
still  to  say,  but  I  can't  speak  more  of  it  to-night.  It 
seems  to  mean  more  than  I  expected.  Will  you  go 
back  to  them?  I  am  going  home.  You  can  bring 
Veronica  back." 

He  recognised  a  renunciation  in  her  words  and  he 
wished  with  great  unreason  to  annul  it,  but  her  wish 
was  law  and  he  went  away  reluctantly.  Once  he 
looked  back.  She  was  standing  with  her  hands  rest- 
ing on  the  balustrading,  her  face  turned  to  the  now 
fully  risen  moon.  She  was  very  upright,  very  still, 
very  solitary. 

Dominic  did  not  at  once  rejoin  the  party  on  the 
steps.  He  sat  down  in  the  long  colonnade,  thinking 
deeply. 

Felicity  continued  to  stand  there  facing  this  experi- 
ence that  had  so  nearly  swept  her  from  her  customary 
balance.  She  had  not  been  taken  by  surprise.  The 
possibility  of  such  an  event  had  been  before  her  for 
some  time,  had  even  been  wished  for.  Nor  was  it 
entirely  her  maternal  solicitude  which  she  had  figured 
so  vividly  and  which  had  been  hers  for  long  years, 
that  was  disturbed.  Most  certainly  it  was  not  distrust 
of  her  daughter's  lover.  The  deeper  her  reason  strove 
to  probe  into  the  matter  the  more  swiftly  did  her  soul 
pile  up  barriers  between  that  reason  and  some  deep 
living  truth  it  was  not  to  face. 

The  earth  looked  cold  and  solitary  in  the  moon- 
light. Black  shadows  chequered  with  pallid  light;  a 
mere  reflection  of  a  light  that  was  dead!  She  shiv- 
ered, with  something  like  terror  clutching  her  heart. 
To  Veronica  then — to  her  darling — was  to  be  given 


82  FELICITY  CROFTON 

an  escape  from  the  coldness  and  solitude  that  life 
sometimes  doles  out  to  mortals.  She  would  be  happy. 
She  had  been  given  the  right  letters  to  spell  happiness, 
and  here  was  one  who  would  teach  her  the  right  way 
to  put  them  together.  Happy  Veronica !  Lucky  Ve- 
ronica! .  .  . 

And  because  it  seemed  to  breathe  of  distant  dis- 
loyalty towards  her  child,  she  fiercely  resented  the 
dim  questioning  whisper  as  to  whether  it  was  the 
surest  consummation  for  his  happiness  also ! 

"I  am  glad,  glad,  glad,"  she  said  steadily,  "that  it 
is  Dominic!  It  is  true  I  would  have  chosen  him  out 
of  scores  of  men  for  her,  and  I  know  he  will  win  her. 
Oh,  you  lucky,  lucky  Veronica !  Only  those  who  have 
failed  know  how  lucky  you  are !" 

Again  the  inner  being  in  her  soul  fled  behind  its 
barriers.  She  held  out  her  hands  to  the  moon. 

"You,  if  your  moon  soul  is  still  alive,  ought  to 
know  what  it  means,"  she  whispered.  "I  wonder  if 
you  still  feel  the  light  you  give!"  And  presently  she 
turned  and  went  into  her  own  house. 

After  she  had  gone,  Dominic  returned  to  the  steps 
where  the  little  party  were  still  sitting. 


"Veronica  will  have  plenty  of  money.  It  has  been 
accumulating.  I  have  never  touched  it,"  said  Felicity. 

She  launched  the  statement  at  Bessington  almost 
before  he  had  taken  the  chair  she  indicated  to  him. 

The  question  of  money  was  so  remote  from  his 
thoughts  that  he  positively  started,  and  for  the  mo- 
ment could  find  nothing  to  say  in  answer. 

"I  have  my  aunt's  money — and  my  settlement 
money.  Alexander  insisted  on  my  keeping  that." 

Behind  her  level,  unemotional  voice  Bessington 
could  distinguish  a  hardly  schooled  passionate  distaste 


FELICITY  CROFTON  83 

for  the  subject.  His  impulse  was  to  stop  her,  to 
assure  her  he  needed  no  explanation  nor  had  thoughts 
of  any,  but  he  held  himself  silent  with  an  effort,  divin- 
ing that  since  she  was  forcing  herself  to  face  some 
facts  she  would  not  do  it  without  cause  and  her  effort 
must  not  go  for  nothing. 

"I  was  married  before  I  was  eighteen.  He  was 
much  older  than  I  was.  My  aunt  thought  it  a  good 
marriage.  He  was  rich  and  of  good  family  and  I 
think  he  was  in  love  with  me.  But  he  was  a  scientist 
and  his  work  lay  in  Germany.  We  lived  there.  He 
loved  the  Germans — their  ways,  their  ideas  of  women 
and  life  and  I — well,  I  hated  it  all — most  especially 
their  ideas  of  women.  I  have  never  been  to  Germany 
since!" 

Bessington  remembered  in  a  flash  that  he  had  never 
heard  her  mention  Germany  as  a  scene  of  any  of  their 
many  travels.  He  looked  at  her  fine  still  face  so  reso- 
lutely kept  in  hand  so  that  not  so  much  as  a  fleeting 
expression  should  betray  those  stronger  feelings  that 
burned  again  in  her  heart  at  this  facing  of  the  past. 

"I  do  not  think  my  husband  had  ever  been  young  in 
his  life,  poor  man!  Still,  matters  might  not  have  been 
so  bad  as  they  were  if  his  people  had  not  disapproved 
of  me — of  the  marriage,  indeed.  They  were  always 
on  the  lookout  for  mistakes — and  I  made  a  big  one. 
It  was  about  three  months  before  Veronica  was  born. 
I  was  terribly  unhappy,  and  fighting  against  all  the 
little  futile  arrangements  that  custom  and  the  country 
decreed  for  me  and  my  child — and  I  ran  away!  I 
came  to  England,  to  Alexander.  I  could  not  have 
managed  it  alone  then,  but  there  was  a  young  English- 
man in  Frankfort  whom  I  knew  and  who  was  the 
soul  of  chivalry  and  goodness  and  about  as  unwise  as 
I  myself,  with  the  very  best  intentions.  He  helped 
me  to  get  away.  Edward's  people  made  capital  out  of 
that,  added  facts  which  were  not  true.  I  learnt  after- 


84  FELICITY  CROFTON 

wards  that  he  meant  to  get  a  divorce — or  separation, 
and  that  if  it  were  a  girl  I  might  keep  it  and  if  it  were 
a  boy  he  would  keep  it.  He  was  coming  to  England 
to  fetch  me  and  see  to  this — and  he  had  a  memoran- 
dum of  it  all  on  him.  He  was  killed  in  a  railway  acci- 
dent on  the  way." 

If  she  could  have  shown  any  emotion  at  all — even 
relief,  Bessington  thought — it  would  be  more  bearable 
than  her  dead,  level  voice  going  over  this  thing  that 
had  hurt  her  so  terribly,  that  she  could  feel  no  more 
on  its  account. 

"You  see  why  I  could  not  touch  the  money.  But 
it's  right  for  Veronica  to  have  it.  His  people  have 
never  forgiven  me.  They  considered  him  a  genius — 
perhaps  he  was — and  he  was  working  at  some  great 
discovery.  They  have  never  had  anything  to  do  with 
either  Veronica  or  me." 

"That  is  one  point  to  the  good,"  he  said  quickly. 

"I  felt  you  ought  to  know.  Veronica's  husband 
would  have  to  know." 

He  leant  over  the  little  table  which  stood  between 
them  and  put  his  hands  on  hers. 

"There  was  no  need.  But  I  am  more  than  glad  that 
I  can  keep  Veronica  without  her  inheritance.  It  will 
just  be — extra,  for  her." 

She  turned  to  him  swiftly  with  a  little  flush  of  sur- 
prise on  her  face. 

"There  is  no  need  of  that,  Dominic.  You  would  al- 
ways work  of  course,  but  it  could  be  how  you  please." 

"It  will  be  as  now,"  he  answered  firmly.  "I,  too, 
would  not  touch  for  myself — his  money." 

She  clasped  her  hands  together  till  they  whitened 
under  the  pressure  and  there  was  a  flash  of  something 
almost  like  fear  in  her  eyes,  but  it  was  gone  almost 
instantly. 

"But  we  are  talking,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "as  if  I 
had  already  won  Veronica. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  85 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  strange  little  smile,  and 
he  knew  the  other  subject  was  forever  buried  between 
them. 

"As  if  you  could  fail  when  you  have  set  your  heart 
on  it !"  Then  she  went  on  quickly,  as  one  who  had  a 
grip  of  the  practical  issues  at  last.  "I  should  not  wish 
Veronica  to  marry  for  a  year  yet.  She  was  eighteen 
in  May  last.  You  must  come  to  us  as  often  as  you 
can.  You  may  get  engaged  as  soon  as  you  like,  but 
a  year  hence  is  soon  enough  for  you  to  marry." 

"I  wish  I  could  take  it  for  granted  as  you  do !"  he 
said  ruefully. 

"If  you  are  asking  for  personal  assurance  of  Ve- 
ronica's feelings  towards  you,  I  cannot  give  you  any- 
thing of  the  sort  for  I  know  nothing,"  she  answered 
swiftly.  "I  have  told  you  my  belief.  It  is  for  you 
to  justify  it!"  She  conveyed  the  impression  that  his 
failure  would  overwhelm  her  with  disappointment. 

Felicity  rose  and  went  out  of  the  open  French  win- 
dow into  the  rose  garden,  and  he  followed  her.  Her 
tall  slim  figure  moved  a  little  before  him  for  half  the 
length  of  the  walk,  then  she  stopped  by  a  bush  of 
Madam  Lombard  and  called  his  attention  to  the  pale 
delicate  tint  of  a  new  bud. 

"Isn't  it  sweet?"  murmured  Felicity,  her  light  fin- 
gers caressing  the  creamy  petals.  "It  wants  to  be 
liked." 

"But  I  like  this  better;  it  means  more,"  said  Bes- 

sington  quickly,  pointing  to  a  dark  glowing  bud  on  a 

bush  near  that  reached  out  green  leafy  hands  to  them, 

f  claiming  notice.    With  sudden  audacity,  seeing  it  was 

not  his  garden,  he  picked  it  and  handed  it  to  her. 

She  stood  still  with  a  flood  of  colour  sweeping  over 
her  face,  and  then  taking  it  put  it  in  her  dress  without 
a  word  of  thanks,  and  as  she  was  looking  down  he 
could  not  see  how  her  eyes  were  shining,  yet  he  knew 
he  had  pleased  her. 


86  FELICITY  CROFTON 

A  sound  of  singing  came  trilling  up  to  them  from 
the  lower  garden. 

"There's  Veronica  back  from  the  village,"  said  Fe- 
licity hastily.  "I  expect  she  will  want  you  to  play 
tennis  or  something.  I  am  engaged  this  morning." 

She  smiled  at  him  with  complete  good  fellowship 
and  he  smiled  back  and  went  towards  the  singing,  but 
once  he  looked  back  at  her,  as  he  had  the  night  before. 

How  young,  how  absurdly  young  she  looked !  Had 
he  really  noticed  a  faint  little  sprinkle  of  grey  about 
her  temples  or  was  it  the  sunlight  that  flecked  her 
hair? 

The  story  and  all  the  part  of  it  she  had  never  told 
any  one,  was  done  with.  It  might  have  cut  short  the 
wonderful  spring  of  her  youth,  as  cruel  frosts  in 
May  will  blacken  the  promise  of  the  year;  but  still, 
with  summer,  had  come  new  life,  full,  and  perfect, 
surely  as  beautiful  as  any  promise  of  spring!  Never- 
theless he — Bessington — would  never  willingly  touch 
what  had  been  that  man's  fortune  if  some  good  fate 
should  put  him  in  a  position  to  do  so.  It  would  have 
seemed  to  him  disloyalty  to  a  friend ! 

Veronica  came  round  the  corner  of  the  house,  and 
straightway  one  forgot  that  it  was  a  summer's  day. 
It  had  never  been  more  than  spring.  Spring  with  a 
song  in  her  mouth,  and  a  laugh  in  her  eyes !  Bessing- 
ton felt  himself  swept  from  all  reason  and  common 
sense.  She  ceased  her  singing,  greeted  him  with 
frankest  pleasure,  and  carried  him  off  to  pick  straw- 
berries. 

Felicity  lingered  a  little  in  the  rose  garden,  picking 
off  dead  roses  and  giving  half-hearted  attention  to  the 
needs  of  some  favourites.  Now  and  again  her  fingers 
wandered  to  the  rose  she  had  tucked  into  her 
dress,  to  make  sure  it  had  not  fallen  out.  It  was  too 
good  a  bud  to  waste  with  careless  dropping.  She  took 
it  out  and  looked  at  it,  just  to  be  sure  it  came  up  to 


FELICITY  CROFTON  87 

her  expectations  of  that  particular  bush.  It  had  been 
rather  clever  of  Dominic  to  guess  it  was  her  favourite 
rose,  though  of  course  that  was  chance.  They  had 
stopped  near  it.  Roses  spoilt  so  soon  if  one  wore 
them,  that  she  would  go  and  put  it  in  water. 

She  went  to  the  house  and  up  to  her  room,  and 
eventually  the  Princess  de  Sagen  reposed  in  a  little 
glass  by  her  bed. 

in 

A  river  excursion  had  again  been  proposed  by  either 
Dominic  or  Veronica,  but  Felicity  had  excused  her- 
self on  the  score,  first  of  being  tired,  then  that  it  was 
too  hot,  and  then  had  promptly  contradicted  herself 
and  said  it  was  "letters." 

They  had  both  protested  strongly  against  all  these 
excuses  but  failed  to  move  her,  and  had  finally  given- 
it  up.  Felicity  had  overheard  Dominic  telling  Ve- 
ronica to  give  orders  that  some  one  saw  that  she  had 
her  tea  and  did  not  forget  it. 

When  they  had  gone  she  did  not  fall  to  on  the  let- 
ters of  which  she  had  spoken.  It  seemed  more  as  if 
the  first  spontaneous  excuse  had  been  the  real  one. 
She  lay  back  in  her  chair  for  some  time  doing  nothing 
at  all,  and  when  she  realised  it,  did  nothing  to  remedy 
the  occasion.  She  just  continued  to  do  nothing. 

There  were  many  things  she  could  do.  The  letters 
really  existed  or  ought  to  exist,  the  rose  garden  needed 
attention,  there  was  embroidery  on  Veronica's  new 
frock  to  finish;  more  awful  still,  a  long-owed  call 
wrought  a  discord  in  her  sense  of  deserved  rest. 

She  very  often  sat  doing  nothing,  for  she  had  the 
power  of  repose,  but  to-day  she  was  aware  of  a  lack 
of  desire,  of  interest,  of  a  sudden  lack  indeed  of 
interest,  or  purpose  in  life! 

For  the  past  five  years  she  had  been  moving  steadily 


88  FELICITY  CROFTON 

towards  a  certain  event.  That  event  was  now  on  her ; 
not  accomplished  yet,  but  to  be  accomplished.  Until 
it  were  so  she  was  but  marking  time  with  life,  hasten- 
ing towards — nothing!  Fleeing  from — nothing!  Be- 
reft of  purpose! 

She  never  entertained  the  idea  that  Dominic  might 
fail  in  his  suit,  and  she  never  entertained  the  least 
doubt  of  the  desirability  of  it.  There  was  something 
oddly  personal  in  both  of  these  certainties,  which,  con- 
sidering the  fact  that  she  had  never  and  would  never 
coerce  Veronica  into  even  a  habit  of  thought,  might 
have  merited  meditation  on  her  part.  But  meditation 
on  the  subject  of  Veronica's  marriage  was  the  last 
thing  she  permitted  herself. 

The  thought  that  troubled  her  and  made  her  hands 
move  restlessly  was,  what  purpose  in  life  was  she  to 
pursue  when  Veronica  was  married! 

She  had  never  faced  this  fact  before. 

There  were  a  dozen  proteges  and  god-daughters  in 
whose  affairs  of  the  heart  she  had  more  than  a  passing 
interest.  But  for  the  moment  the  interest  was  faint. 
She  told  herself  that  was  only  because  it  was  over- 
shadowed by  Veronica's  affairs  for  the  time  and 
that  when  these  were  settled  these  others  would  take 
their  place,  but  she  was  not  quite  convinced.  If  only 
she  had  other  daughters — or  a  son! 

She  left  off  all  attempts  to  be  sensible  and  let  her 
imagination  present  her  with  pictures  of  the  sort  of 
girl  she  would  choose  as  wife  for  this  imaginary  son. 
Then  she  desisted  because  she  couldn't  manage  that 
obstreperous  boy  without  calling  in  advice  from  Dom- 
inic— and  he  might  not  like  his  brother-in-law! 

He  would,  though!  Any  boy  would  like  Domi- 
nic! 

She  came  back  to  the  point  she  had  started  from 
with  faint  irritation.  It  was  an  empty  affair — imag- 
ining. Also  it  was  rather  an  empty  world. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  89 

Adam  Preston  came  in  through  the  open  window 
and  brought  with  him  a  breath  of  vitality  and  vigour. 
He  was  dressed  in  immaculate  white,  and  he  was  per- 
fectly at  home,  making  no  apology  for  his  entrance  or 
presence. 

"Madre,  you  are  very  idle." 

"Why  shouldn't  I  be  idle?" 

He  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  chair,  dangling  his  hat  in 
his  hand.  His  whole  attitude  and  air  conveyed  the 
impression  that  he  was  a  petitioner. 

"There's  every  reason  why  you  should  do  some- 
thing." 

"Which  means  you  want  me  to  do  something?" 

"Yes.    I  want  you  to  come  for  a  spin  in  the  car." 

Adam's  last  extravagance  was  a  small  "runabout," 
the  best  of  its  kind.  Needless  to  say,  Mr.  Fraser  had 
protested  against  its  presence,  but  weakly.  The  car 
arrived  with  Adam,  and  stayed  with  him. 

"I  might  as  well  never  have  brought  it,"  he  said 
reproachfully.  "You've  only  been  out  with  me 
twice!" 

"You  aren't  going  to  pretend  you  brought  it  for 
my  benefit." 

"It's  useful  for  other  jobs,"  he  admitted,  "but  its 
primary  use  is  to  take  you  out." 

Her  eyes  ran  him  over  with  vast  pleasure.  She 
forgot  her  coming  lack  of  purpose. 

"That  beautiful  white  suit  is  not  fit  for  motor- 
ing." 

"It's  not  motoring  that  I  propose.   It's  only  a  spin !" 

"It  would  be  the  essence  of  laziness  on  my  part." 

"It  would  be  the  acme  of  kindness." 

"What  about  work?" 

"That's  done." 

"Honour  bright?" 

He  nodded  and  rose. 

"How  long  will  you  be,  Madre?" 


90  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Five  minutes." 

He  went  out  with  another  nod  of  approval. 

"I  daresay,  if  he  were  my  own  boy,  he  would  not 
want  to  take  me  out  with  him,"  she  thought  to  her- 
self as  she  went  upstairs  to  dress,  but  in  her  heart  she 
knew  that  he  would — that  the  son  who  would  never 
be  hers  would  have  treated  her  in  all  respects  as  these 
boys  treated  her,  as  the  dear  comrade  and  desired 
companion  of  their  leisure  hours. 

She  kept  Adam  waiting  a  few  minutes  while  she 
went  into  Veronica's  room  to  make  some  trifling 
arrangement  with  the  blinds  that  might  well  have  been 
left  to  the  servants.  She  stayed  a  moment  more  than 
was  necessary  even,  straightening  some  things  on  the 
toilet  table,  and  refused  to  hurry  her  steps,  even  when 
Adam's  new  horn  tootled  outside. 

"We'll  go  to  Monckton  Farley,"  he  said  as  he 
tucked  her  in  and  adjusted  the  dust  screen. 

To  Monckton  Farley  they  went  by  way  of  Combe 
Down  and  down  into  the  Avon  Valley.  Felicity  talked 
of  cars,  horses  and  cricket  as  one  who  knows  no  more 
absorbing  topic  of  conversation.  When  they  crossed 
the  river  and  were  running  along  the  main  road  that 
skirted  the  steep  side  of  the  valley,  Adam  slackened 
the  pace. 

"Let's  get  out  and  climb  up  and  find  some  air,"  he 
suggested  persuasively.  Felicity  looked  up  the  steep 
hillside.  She  had  often  climbed  it,  but  never  with 
Eve.  It  would  be  good  fun.  In  some  dim  recesses 
of  her  mind  she  welcomed  the  thought  as  a  challenge 
to  the  insidious  languor  of  the  earlier  part  of  the  after- 
noon, as  a  chance  to  prove  that  ability  and  will  were 
one  with  her  energy,  after  all. 

Adam  ran  the  car  to  the  side  of  the  road  and  then 
busied  himself  with  the  mechanism. 

"No  one  can  run  off  with  her  now,"  he  said.  "Are 
you  sure  it  won't  be  too  much  for  you,  Madre?" 


She  was  already  on  the  top  of  the  high  bank  and 
looked  back  at  him  with  scorn. 

"Don't  insult  me,  Eve!" 

"Oh,  well;  it's  no  child's  play,  but  it's  awfully  good 
to  get  a  climb  sometimes." 

They  followed  a  little  beaten  track  that  led  through 
the  fringe  of  beech  trees  and  so  out  on  to  the  boulder- 
strewn  ground  above.  Higher  up  sharp  headlands 
jutted  out  in  precipitous  manner  from  the  backbone 
of  the  ridge — flying  buttresses  of  nature's  own  mak- 
ing. There  was  no  disputing  the  steepness  of  the 
climb,  once  they  had  left  the  path.  Felicity  took  the 
slope  easily.  She  was  in  complete  sympathy  with 
Adam's  wish  to  get  through  the  shadowy  lower  slopes 
on  to  the  sun-blistered  heights  above.  She  walked 
with  a  firm,  vigorous  step  and  rejected  with  a  smile 
Adam's  occasional  offers  of  help.  They  wasted  no 
breath  in  talking  and  at  the  first  halt  neither  of  them 
showed  signs  of  distress.  Adam  gave  her  a  look  of 
keen  approval.  He  was  accustomed  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  Madre  could  do  very  nearly  the  same 
things  as  he  could  do  and  enjoy  doing  them,  but  to- 
day it  did  occur  to  him  that  Miss  Forrester  would 
never  have  faced  the  climb — nor  would  his  mother. 
He  acknowledged  to  Felicity  with  half  a  smile  that  he 
would  like  to  see  his  mother  tackle  the  hill,  but  he 
did  not  mention  Miss  Forrester.  The  faintest  possible 
shadow  crossed  Felicity's  face  as  she  agreed  it  would 
be  too  much  for  Mrs.  Preston. 

A  look  between  them  had  decided  their  goal  to  be 
a  little  grassy  slope  below  a  big  projection  of  rock 
which  stuck  out  like  a  bare  shoulder  from  the  earth, 
with  smooth  worn  sides,  some  twenty  feet  high.  The 
grassy  lawn  that  lay  at  its  foot  was  sweet  with  wild 
thyme  and  milkwort. 

"What  a  ripping  view!"  said  Adam  as  he  flung 
himself  down  on  the  soft  turf,  tossing  off  his  hat,  He 


92  FELICITY  CROFTON 

was  a  little  heated  and  on  the  whole  showed  more 
signs  of  the  climb  than  she  did.  She  claimed  her 
superiority  with  pride  and  picked  a  little  bunch  of 
thyme  for  his  buttonhole  as  compensation. 

She  was  still  aware  of  a  faint  sense  of  compunc- 
tion which  the  mention  of  his  mother  had  aroused. 

"What  will  you  do  if  I  fail,  Madre?"  he  asked, 
turning  on  his  elbow  to  look  at  her. 

"You  are  not  going  to  fail,"  she  assured  him  calmly. 

"I'm  no  use  at  all  at  exams,"  he  grumbled.  "All  I 
know  gets  locked  up  in  my  mind  directly  the  beastly 
papers  appear." 

He  tossed  some  bits  of  grass  at  her. 

"I'm  not  sure  I  want  to  pass  now.  The  army's  all 
right  if  there  was  any  chance  of  active  service,  but 
there  isn't." 

"Cheer  up.  One  never  knows !  And  isn't  it  rather 
late  in  the  day  to  alter  your  mind?" 

"It's  the  exams,"  he  admitted  frankly.  "I  don't 
want  to  stick  in  a  cavalry  regiment  doing  nothing  all 
my  life  and  if  one  wants  to  do  anything  else  it's  exams, 
exams,  exams,  for  all  existence !" 

"Hill  climbing!" 

"Mental  gymnastics!     I  hate  it!" 

She  turned  to  him  suddenly. 

"You  have  to  pass,  Eve,"  she  said  firmly.  "It's 
your  career.  You  are  cut  out  for  a  soldier.  Heaps  of 
men  who  go  up  aren't  and  it  wouldn't  matter  if  they 
failed,  but  with  you  it  does.  What's  come  over  you  ? 
You  are  not  to  disappoint  me !" 

"I  had  thought  perhaps  on  the  whole  I  had  better 
fail,"  he  answered  gloomily. 

She  took  him  to  task  seriously  and  in  ten  minutes 
brought  him  to  the  point  of  determination  to  "do" 
the  examiners  or  die !  Also  to  the  resolve  to  specialise 
directly  he  was  in  the  army. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  she  had  encountered  and 


FELICITY  CROFTON  93 

worsted  an  attack  of  nerves  in  minds  that  would  have 
strenuously  denied  the  existence  of  such  weaknesses. 

Then  they  ceased  to  talk  "shop"  and  climbed  higher. 
This  time  it  was  Felicity  who  was  in  front.  Eve 
stopped  to  ferret  out  a  small  snake  that  had  taken 
refuge  in  a  cranny.  Felicity  was  directly  above  him, 
leaning  against  a  small  boulder.  Further  down  the 
hill  on  the  turf  where  they  had  first  rested  was  Eve's 
hat  and  below  that — far  below — was  a  disused  quarry 
breaking  the  line  of  fringing  beechwoods.  Felicity's 
glances  wandered  between  the  distant  view  and  Eve's 
movements. 

What  a  dear  boy  he  was!  He  wanted  handling 
properly,  of  course.  She  loved  his  frank  inability  to 
deal  with  anything  more  than  the  difficulties  of  a  phys- 
ical world,  his  clear-cut  theories  of  life,  his  activities 
and  the  astonishing  grace  of  youth.  Mrs.  Preston 
was  a  lucky  woman.  Felicity  wondered  if  she  prop- 
erly appreciated  her  "luck."  She  had  seen  her  photo- 
graph. A  small  stout  comfortable  old  lady  with  a 
placid,  sleepy  face.  Preston  pere  she  had  met.  He 
was  also  stout  but  not  placid.  He  might  have  been 
good  looking  once  but  never  like  Eve!  Eve  must  be 
a  "hark-back"  to  a  dim  distant  line  of  ancestors,  virile 
fighting  men!  He  was  almost  akin  to  Dominic! 
Here  her  thoughts  drifted  and  had  to  be  caught  back 
with  firm  insistence.  There  was  really  no  likeness 
between  Dominic  and  Eve  at  all,  or  a  very  superficial 
one. 

One  point  of  difference  was  that  she  would  have 
hated  showing  she  was  tired  in  Eve's  presence,  and 
she  would  not  have  minded  a  bit  owning  a  weakness 
to  Dominic. 

Eve  was  still  hunting  for  the  snake.  She  moved 
her  position  slightly,  and  doing  so  felt  the  stone 
against  which  she  leant  rock  slightly.  It  rocked  more 
than  slightly.  Its  centre  of  gravity  seemed  to  be 


94  FELICITY  CROFTON 

shifting.  Quick  as  thought  she  braced  herself  against 
it,  digging  her  heels  into  the  slippery  turf,  and  called, 

"Eve!  Eve!  Get  away  to  the  left  quickly!  This 
stone's  slipping!" 

He  looked  up,  only  half  hearing  her  oddly  strained 
voice,  and  understanding  nothing  of  her  call. 

"I've  got  it,  Madre,  in  the  hole  here ;  such  a  beauty !" 
he  shouted. 

"Get  to  the  left— the  left.     It  will  fall  if  I  move!" 

He  heard  that  and  sprang  towards  her  but  directly 
up  in  line  with  her. 

"To  the  left!"  she  called  again,  but  not  very 
loudly. 

She  was  exerting  every  ounce  of  strength  to  retard 
the  slipping  stone  till  he  was  safely  out  of  the  neces- 
sary route.  It  had  not  actually  started,  but  she  knew 
when  her  retaining  hold  was  moved  that  go  it  must. 
If  her  foot  slipped  now  on  the  turf  it  would  go  over 
her;  if  she  let  go  too  soon  it  would  fall  on  him.  She 
saw  him  racing  up  to  her,  still  not  understanding,  and 
dared  not  waste  strength  on  another  call,  though  the 
strain  was  breaking  her.  Then  he  saw,  sprang  to  her 
and  caught  her  away.  The  stone,  freed  from  the  one 
thing  that  saved  its  balance,  rocked,  slipped,  and 
plunged  headlong  down  the  slope. 

Happily  no  other  big  boulder  stood  directly  in  its 
path.  It  bounded  on  over  the  spot  where  Eve  had 
hunted  for  his  snake,  over  the  spot  where  his  hat  had 
rested,  annihilated  it,  and  rushed  on,  leaving  a  trail 
of  scarred  turf  and  slipping  stones  behind,  right  to  the 
lip  of  the  old  quarry,  over  which  it  plunged  with  a 
splintering  crash,  and  the  rushing  stream  of  stones 
plunged  after  it.  The  echo  of  the  fall  died  away  and 
the  beautiful  still  of  the  summer  day  had  it  all  its 
own  way  again. 

The  two  stood  still,  leaning  against  the  side  of  a 
solid  piece  of  cliff,  Eve  still  holding  Felicity.  He  was 


FELICITY  CROFTON  95 

aghast  at  the  real  peril  from  which  he  had  caught  her, 
but  she  was  staring  iixedly  at  the  ground  with  her 
hands  clasped  against  her  breast.  At  last  he  released 
her. 

"No  one  hurt !  But  it  was  rather  a  near  shave.  It 
wasn't  a  very  big  stone  after  all.  Did  you  ever  hear 
of  one  slipping  before?  What  a  crash!"  Felicity 
made  a  great  effort. 

"I  think,"  she  said  with  great  slowness,  calculated 
to  disguise  the  unsteadiness  of  her  voice,  "that  I'll 
lie  down  and  get  my  breath  a  bit !" 

"You  aren't  hurt,  are  you?"  he  interposed  sharply. 

"No,  only  I  think  I'll— rest!" 

She  sat  down  on  the  grass  with  her  back  against  the 
cliff  and  clasped  her  hand  on  her  knees,  smiling  at 
him. 

Eve  looked  at  her  with  worried  perplexity.  The 
sequence  of  events  had  been  so  rapid  that  he  had 
hardly  taken  in  what  had  occurred.  Now  he  began 
to  realise  that  Madre  had  been  subject  to  some  big 
physical  effort.  Her  breath  still  came  jerkily,  and 
there  was  an  odd  look  in  her  face.  His  eyes  travelled 
along  the  scarred  track  down  the  hillside  and  at  last 
it  dawned  on  him  that  he  had  been  directly  in  that 
track.  Lower  down  still  the  remains  of  his  hat  were 
caught  on  a  bush. 

"You  saved  me  from  rather  a  smash,  Madre,"  he 
said  fiercely. 

She  gave  a  little  laugh  and  stopped  it,  with  her 
hands  caught  at  her  heart  again. 

"What  a  fierce  accusation!  But  boulders,  even 
that  size,  are  heavier  than  one  would  think.  My  arms 
ache  a  bit.  I  really  think  I  will  lie  down." 

He  slipped  off  his  coat  and  folded  it  into  a  pillow, 
and  she  lay  down  with  a  pretty  little  apology  for  her 
silliness. 

"Go  and  play,"  she  insisted.     "I  shall  be  all  right 


96  FELICITY  CROFTON 

directly.  Go  and  climb  up  that  rock  and  see  if  the 
view  is  worth  seeing  from  there." 

He  obeyed  because  he  gathered  she  would  rather 
be  alone,  but  he  did  not  look  at  the  view.  He  cleared 
the  clefts  of  the  rock  of  moss  in  rather  a  savage  man- 
ner. 

Felicity  lay  very  still  and  looked  at  the  sky.  Her 
brain  seemed  to  work  spasmodically.  For  a  few  min- 
utes she  was  peacefully  aware  of  blue  space  and  the 
sweetness  of  earth  and  then  came  a  state  of  laboured 
strength,  of  chaos  and  discomfort;  these  two  states 
alternated  at  irregular  intervals. 

"Madre!" 

She  sat  up  and  looked  round. 

"I'm  up  here,"  said  Eve  from  the  summit  of  the 
rock  on  which  he  lay.  "Are  you  all  right  now  ?" 

"Yes.    We'd  better  be  getting  back." 

He  reappeared  by  her  side  in  a  marvellously  quick 
way;  looked  at  her  sharply  and  shamefacedly  and  then 
averted  his  face. 

"There's  no  hurry.  It's  jolly  here.  Let's  stay 
longer." 

"Well,  take  your  coat." 

"I  don't  want  it.  Doesn't  the  sky  look  fine  when 
one's  lying  down?" 

She  lay  back  again  to  see  it  with  a  little  tender 
smile  at  his  na'ive  anxiety.  He  turned  on  his  face 
and  began  plucking  at  the  thyme  and  milkwort. 

"You  are  a  brick,  Madre.  I  have  been  thinking 
about  it." 

"Then  change  your  thoughts.  Aren't  you  anxious 
about  your  car?" 

"No."  He  took  a  little  fitment  out  of  his  pocket 
and  fingered  it. 

Felicity  said  firmly  they  must  return. 

They  went  down  slowly.  Once  moving  she  went 
on  without  hurry.  She  did  not  talk  much  and  she 


FELICITY  CROFTON  97 

did  not  reject  the  proffered  help  in  difficult  places; 
also,  she  did  not  jump  off  the  bank  when  they  reached 
the  road. 

When  they  were  in  the  car  and  at  point  of  starting 
she  said  with  a  certain  shyness: 

"There's  no  occasion  to  say  anything  about  that 
stupid  stone.  It's  a  thing  that  might  only  happen 
once  in  fifty  years,  and  it  might  make  people  nervous 
of  going  there." 

"Just  as  you  like,  of  course,"  he  answered,  knitting 
his  brows.  "But  don't  invent  silly  reasons,  Madre. 
Are  you  sure  you  are  not  hurt?" 

"I'm  all  right.    But  you  know  how  silly  people  are." 

Eve  knew  very  well.  He  was  in  complete  sympathy 
with  Madre  there! 

He  insisted  at  stopping  at  Bathampton  for  tea  in 
spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour.  Madre  was  loath  to 
leave  the  car  so  he  brought  tea  out  to  her.  It  was 
past  seven  when  they  reached  home,  and  Bessington 
and  Veronica  were  on  the  terrace  waiting.  As  they 
drove  up  Veronica  called  out  cheerfully, 

"Had  tea,  Madre?" 

On  hearing  she  had,  Veronica  turned  triumphantly 
to  Bessington. 

"You  see  there  was  no  need  to  bother.  The  kettle's 
been  kept  boiling  for  nothing !" 

"It  might  have  been  wanted,"  he  insisted. 

Madre  seemed  very  content  to  take  Bessington's 
chair  and  sit  with  them,  listening  to  what  they  had  to 
tell.  She  did  not  even  seem  greatly  concerned  that 
Eve  was  late  for  work  and  would  probably  receive  a 
reprimand.  She  found  nothing  to  say  of  her  own 
doings  beyond  the  fact  she  had  been  for  a  nice  run 
in  a  little  car, 


98  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER  IV 

"It  Is  a  Poor  Achievement  That  Does 
not  Bring  Content  in  Its  Train." 


IT  was  not  till  September  that  Dominic  made  up  his 
mind  to  put  his  fortune  to  the  touch.  He  had  already 
established  the  right  and  custom  of  direct  correspon- 
dence with  the  Haven,  and  more  particularly  with 
Veronica.  For  Felicity  always  found  some  good  rea- 
son why  Veronica  rather  than  herself  should  answer 
such  letters  as  Bessington  sent  her,  and  in  this  way  the 
girl,  almost  without  realising  it,  slipped  into  more  or 
less  regular  correspondence  with  him.  She  made  no 
comment  thereon,  and  generally  handed  his  letters  to 
her  mother  to  read.  In  fact,  she  betrayed  by  no  sign 
or  word  anything  more  than  general  pleasure  at  his 
friendly  attitude.  Felicity  was  only  half  satisfied.  It 
was  impossible  to  suspect  Veronica  of  duplicity,  yet 
on  occasions  Felicity  caught  her  daughter  regard- 
ing her  with  an  affectionate  air  of  secret  amusement 
that  was  disconcerting.  Felicity  suggested  wintering 
abroad,  and  Veronica  offered  no  objection.  Never- 
theless the  proposal  fell  into  oblivion. 

Then  one  Friday  morning  Veronica,  who  was  read- 
ing a  letter  from  Bessington,  announced  that  he  was 
coming  down  to  Priest's  Park  for  the  week  end.  The 
last  two  visits  had  been  paid  to  the  Haven  direct. 

Felicity,  who  was  buttering  a  piece  of  toast,  put  it 


FELICITY  CROFTON  99 

down  untasted  and  looked  out  of  the  window.  Ve- 
ronica repeated  her  news  and  her  mother  expressed 
her  pleasure,  but  added  that  there  was  no  one  at  the 
College  but  her  brother  and  Professor  Symons  and 
that  he  might  find  it  dull. 

"Shall  we  wire  to  Eve  to  come  too?"  suggested  Ve- 
ronica, with  sudden  laughter  in  her  eyes. 

She  was  a  little  taken  aback  by  the  eager  look  in 
her  mother's  face. 

"I  wonder  would  he  come?"  she  murmured.  "It's 
his  last  Sunday  before  Sandhurst." 

Eve  had  passed  his  exam  quite  creditably. 

"It  is  quite  possible  he  might  if  you  want  him," 
returned  Veronica. 

"Why  should  I  want  him,  you  silly  child?" 

She  pulled  Veronica  nearer  her  and  rearranged  her 
tie.  Veronica  submitted  with  the  same  little  tolerant 
smile  of  amusement. 

"You  and  Eve  both  look  your  best  in  white,"  re- 
marked her  mother. 

"Cream,  not  white!  Wouldn't  you  love  Eve  in  a 
beautiful  cream  and  gold  uniform?  Madre?  Shall  I 
wire  to  him?" 

"Why  do  you  want  him?" 

"I  don't  want  him.  It's  you  who  do."  Then  she 
broke  into  a  laugh.  "Oh,  Madre,  you  dear,  as  if  I 
did  not  know  you  liked  Eve  every  bit  as  much  as  you 
like  me!" 

"Veronica!"     Felicity's  face  was  stricken. 

Veronica  stroked  it  with  her  cool  little  hand.  She 
was  not  given  to  caresses,  so  it  was  doubly  dear. 

"Well,  nearly  as  much — next  best!  Oh,  I'm  not 
jealous !" 

"I  don't  want  Eve." 

"Very  well;  don't  complain  if  Dominic  wants  to 
spend  all  to-morrow  on  the  river  or  playing  tennis. 
If  he's  no  one  else  to  play  with,  he  will  expect  me  to 


iioo  FELICITY  CROFTON 

look  after  him,  and  unless  you  change  the  lazy  ways 
you  have  got  into  lately  you  will  be  left  alone." 

Felicity  said  meekly  she  would  chance  that.  And 
then  to  show  she  was  not  so  lazy  as  Veronica  hinted, 
proposed  walking  down  to  the  tennis  court  with  her 
where  Veronica  had  to  play  off  some  ties  in  the  local 
tournament 

"You  ought  to  be  playing  yourself,"  grumbled  Ve- 
ronica. "It's  the  first  season  you've  missed." 

"I  seem  to  have  been  extra  busy,"  said  Felicity  has- 
tily. 

They  started  to  walk  down  through  the  woods  to- 
gether, but  half-way  down  Felicity  recollected  some 
neglected  duty  and  said  she  must  return. 

Veronica  went  on  reluctantly.  She  was  never  given 
to  worrying,  but  lately  she  had  felt  a  little  uneasy 
about  her  mother.  She  was  quite  definitely  glad  that 
Dominic  was  coming.  She  would  say  nothing  to  him, 
but  she  was  convinced  that  if  anything  was  wrong 
with  Madre  he  would  notice  it  and  the  responsibility 
would  not  then  rest  with  her.  Her  anxiety  was  not 
enough  to  influence  her  play. 

Meanwhile  Felicity,  having  watched  her  daughter 
out  of  sight,  turned  and  went  very  slowly  up  the  hill 
again.  There  were  three  or  four  seats  on  the  way 
and  at  the  first  she  came  to  she  sat  down,  apparently 
forgetful  of  the  suddenly  remembered  duty. 

There  was  very  little  air  and  the  woods  were  still 
with  that  stillness  that  is  the  birthright  of  September. 
A  small  red  squirrel  came  and  peeped  at  her  from 
behind  a  tree  opposite.  Felicity  loved  the  woods,  she 
spent  many  happy  idle  hours  there,  but  she  had  never 
noticed  till  to-day  how  airless  they  were  and  how  steep 
the  path  that  led  homeward.  She  continued  to  sit 
still  there,  though  her  mind  urged  her  uneasily  to 
move.  She  could  not  think  what  it  was  she  wanted 
to  do,  but  she  had  no  wish  to  be  idle. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  101 

Dominic  Bessington  was  coming  with  the  full  in- 
tent of  putting  his  fortune  to  the  touch!  She  was 
sure  of  it.  Presumably  he  knew  his  chances  better 
than  she  did,  for  she  knew  nothing.  She  was  suddenly 
and  terribly  aware  that  she  knew  nothing  of  the  real 
intent  and  thought  of  the  child,  who  had  been  her 
closest  companion  for  eighteen  years.  Yet  Veronica 
was  candid  and  open  as  day.  How  had  she  failed  her 
daughter,  or  was  her  mental  eyesight  better  adapted 
for  the  masculine  page? 

She  had  heard  herself  from  Eve,  that  morning,  and 
would  have  told  Veronica  but  for  her  teasing  speech. 

In  some  inexplicable  way  her  soul  was  groping  after 
the  boy  as  if  with  him  lay  the  refuge  from  many 
things. 

Dominic's  eyes  were  too  discerning.  He  would 
see,  she  was  sure,  that  she  was  "tired";  would  be 
awake  to  the  hundred  little  subterfuges  that  Veronica 
missed.  No  doubt  it  was  all  only  a  question  of  "being 
a  little  tired"  and  taking  things  easily  for  a  time. 
There  was  not  anything  actually  the  matter  with  her. 
They  would  winter  at  Darvos  Platz.  Felicity  thought 
with  pleasure  of  the  invigorating  air. 

Later  on,  when  Dominic  and  Veronica  were  mar- 
ried, she  would  make  that  trip  to  the  far  side  of  the 
Black  Sea.  It  had  always  fascinated  her.  Then 
sharply  she  recollected  that  if  Veronica  should  refuse 
Dominic  he  would  not  come  again.  There  would  be 
no  more  week-end  visits.  The  odd  sense  of  un-ease 
that  gripped  her  was  distressing.  So  she  rejected  that 
thought  with  an  effort  of  will.  It  was  not  so  well 
worth  entertaining  as  that  Black  Sea  expedition. 

When  she  eventually  returned  to  the  house  she  des- 
patched a  wire  to  Adam. 


IO2 


II 

Bessington  arrived  by  the  five  o'clock  train  on  Sat- 
urday and  he  walked  up.  He  had  indicated  as  much 
to  Veronica  in  his  letter.  It  was  therefore  no  matter 
of  surprise  that  she  happened  to  be  strolling  down  the 
woods  as  he  came  up.  Veronica  said  frankly  she  had 
come  to  meet  him. 

"Eve's  here,"  she  announced.  "Madre  thought  it 
would  be  so  dull  for  you  with  only  Uncle  Fafner  and 
the  Professor  at  the  College." 

She  looked  straight  before  her  as  she  made  the 
statement. 

"I  shall  be  charmed  to  see  Eve.  Let's  stop  here  a 
bit.  There's  no  hurry." 

They  had  reached  the  edge  of  a  precipitous  slope, 
where  the  beech  tree  roots,  running  far  and  wide,  held 
the  bank  together  in  their  twisted  fingers  and  the 
branches  themselves  swept  down  to  the  mossy  ground. 
One  could  see  the  water  in  the  little  lake  below  and 
the  grey  towers  of  the  Abbey  showed  through  a  filmy 
mist  of  heat. 

Veronica  was  quite  ready  to  stop.  She  was  in  no 
hurry  at  all.  She  leant  her  arms  on  a  swinging  bough 
and  rocked  gently  to  and  fro.  Her  eyes  were  thought- 
ful and  shining.  She  was  immensely  happy,  and 
confident  of  life,  and  it  would  have  taken  a  more  dis- 
interested man  than  Dominic  to  guess  that  she  was 
holding  well  in  hand  a  delicious  sense  of  strange  well- 
being. 

"I  did  not  come  down  just  for  amusement  this 
time,"  began  Dominic. 

He  had  prepared  several  speeches  and  one  of  them 
began  like  this,  but  he  knew  he  was  saying  it  far  too 
soon. 

$he  nodded  comprehensively. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  103 

"Perhaps  you  wanted  to  see  how  I  was  looking 
after  Madre?" 

She  turned  her  half -a  verted  face  a  little  more  to- 
wards him. 

"No!"  he  had  forgotten  how  the  speech  went  on. 
There  was  a  singing  in  his  ears.  He  had  seized  the 
most  inopportune  moment.  Nevertheless  he  plunged 
on  into  his  adventure. 

"I  came  to — to  ask  you  to  marry  me,"  he  blurted 
out  confusedly. 

She  still  waited. 

"You  know,  I  think  you  must  know,  that  I  love 
you,  dear,"  he  hurried  on  now.  "I  haven't  said  so,  but 
I  think  you  must  know." 

She  turned  completely  towards  him,  her  eyes  shin- 
ing and  smiling,  and  full  of  a  confiding  candour  that 
set  him  trembling. 

"Yes,  I  know,  of  course! — You  and  Madre!  You 
two  adorable  darlings.  You  both  let  me  know!" 

The  little  break  in  her  voice  was  midway  between 
tears  and  laughter. 

"And  you  ? — Can  you  ? — Am  I  too  soon  ?  Veronica, 
you  must  care  for  me!" 

He  caught  hold  of  the  bough  on  which  she  rested 
and  drew  nearer  her.  His  diffidence  passed  from  him. 
He  was  urgent,  even  fierce  in  his  demand.^,. 

"You  must  try  to  care,  for  I  cannot  do  without 
you,  Veronica.  You  are  the  other  half  of  me,  I  am 
sure  of  it.  So  sure  that  I  must  be  able  to  make  you 
care!" 

On  top  of  the  sharp  fear,  born  of  her  silence,  there 
slipped  her  caressing  little  voice,  so  much  calmer,  so 
comforting,  and  cool  to  his  heart. 

"Of  course  I  care!  Should  I  be  here  else,  or  would 
you  be  here?  Dominic,  you  are  a  dear  old  stupid — of 
course  I  want  to  marry  you  as  much  as  you  want  to 
marry  me!" 


104  FELICITY  CROFTON 

He  put  his  arms  round  her  then  and  held  her. 

"Not  so  much  as  that — but  I  shall  teach  you." 

She  leant  back  her  head  and  her  smiling  shining 
eyes  looked  straight  into  his. 

"But  I  am  taught,  I  couldn't  want  more.  And  you 
couldn't  make  me  love  you,  because  I  do  that  without 
making!" 

Dominic  kissed  her. 


in 

When  they  reached  the  Haven  it  had  apparently 
escaped  Bessington's  memory  that  he  was  Mr.  Eraser's 
guest  and  not  Mrs.  Crofton's.  It  was  Veronica  who 
reminded  him  of  the  fact,  but  he  insisted  he  must  see 
Madre  without  loss  of  time. 

Felicity  had  just  absently  acquiesced  to  Eve's  state- 
ment that  either  Bessington's  train  was  outrageously 
late  or  that  he  and  Veronica  were  playing  truants. 
She  had  herself  proposed  a  walk  with  Eve,  but  when 
ready  had  lingered  restlessly  in  the  garden.  She  heard 
the  click  of  the  gate  as  the  two  entered,  but  though 
she  had  her  back  to  it,  she  did  not  turn.  It  was  Eve 
who  announced  their  arrival. 

When  Felicity  did  turn  she  still  did  not  go  to  meet 
them,  but  remained  near  the  terrace  wall,  struggling 
with  the  inordinate  sense  of  fatigue  that  had  overcome 
her.  As  they  came  nearer  she  heard  Eve  say  half 
under  his  breath: 

"Hullo,  something's  up!" 

She  looked  at  Bessington  first.  Then  at  Veronica* 
who  held  his  hand  and  stood  before  her  with  a  pretty 
air  of  confident  happiness. 

"Well,  Madre,  are  you  content?" 

It  was  Veronica  who  spoke.  Eve  slipped  quietly 
indoors. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  105 

Her  gaze  ranged  from  one  to  the  other.  It  was 
glad.  It  was  wistful.  It  was  satisfied. 

"If  you  are  both  of  you  as  content  as  I  am,  there 
will  be  enough  of  happiness  for  you,"  she  said  softly. 

Then  with  a  little  hurried  catch  in  her  voice  she 
added, 

"And  so — I  think — if  you  don't  mind — I  will  go 
for  my  walk  with  Eve  just  the  same." 

She  kissed  Veronica  quickly  and  went  after  Eve. 
She  had  not  spoken  to  Bessington,  only  touched  his 
hand  and  that  and  her  look  had  been  enough  to  seal 
his  content.  Two  minutes  later  they  saw  her  and  Eve 
go  out  by  the  north  gate.  They  had  neither  spoken 
till  now. 

"I  shouldn't  have  liked  you  half  so  much,  Dominic," 
said  Veronica,  "if  you  hadn't  liked  Madre  so  much." 

Bessington  assured  her  that  if  her  liking  of  him  de- 
pended on  that,  she  could  continue  to  like  him  in  the 
most  conscientious  manner. 


IV 

Felicity  had  stipulated  for  a  year's  engagement,  but 
circumstances  and  Veronica's  own  wish  lengthened 
this  time  by  six  months.  Veronica  found  it  very 
pleasant  being  engaged,  and  as  she  wisely  said,  "If 
they  were  going  to  spend  the  rest  of  their  lives  being 
married,  there  could  be  no  valid  objection  to  spending 
eighteen  months  being  engaged,  since  that  could  not 
occur  again."  Dominic  submitted  patiently.  He  com- 
plained a  little  to  Madre,  but  she  refused  to  press  Ve- 
ronica and  on  the  whole  he  too  had  to  admit  it  was 
a  pleasant  time.  He  spent  most  of  his  week  ends  at 
Priest's  Park,  and  Felicity  for  their  sakes  renounced 
travelling  for  the  first  winter.  She  decided  to  let 
or  sell  her  various  little  "pieds-a-terre,"  saying  she 


io6  FELICITY  CROFTON 

would  put  up  with  hotels  now  she  would  not  have  Ve- 
ronica to  consider.  She  planned  future  travels  to 
Japan,  Russia  and  the  Black  Sea,  and  never  by  as 
much  as  a  sign  betrayed  any  fear  of  the  loneliness  that 
shadowed  her  future  days. 

"I  believe  that  Madre  will  be  quite  glad  to  be  quit 
of  me,"  laughed  Veronica  one  day. 

"Would  you  feel  quite  so  content,  if  you  thought 
she  would  miss  you  dreadfully?" 

"Of  course  not.  I  don't  want  her  to  miss  me.  It 
would  spoil  everything.  I'm  not  complaining,  I'm 
only  stating  facts." 

"Madre  studies  facts  too,"  he  suggested. 

She  nodded. 

"Facts  are  worth  studying  when  they  make  one 
contented." 

"Is  contentment  the  main  object  of  life?" 

"It  is  with  Madre." 

"With  you  certainly." 

"Madre  brought  me  up." 

"The  value  of  your  philosophy  depends  on  the  defi- 
nition of  content." 

"That  sounds  like  Euclid  and  I  never  learnt  it." 

Her  method  of  disposing  of  implied  criticism 
always  amused  Bessington.  He  never  seriously  criti- 
cised her  in  the  sense  of  weighing  her  merits  or  de- 
merits. He  wanted  nothing  changed.  The  sum  total 
of  her  made  for  him  Veronica  and  if  he  at  times  en- 
joyed holding  her  as  it  were  at  mental  arm's  length  to 
view,  it  was  chiefly  because  she  was  in  general  too 
near  him  for  perfectly  conscious  approval. 


It  was  the  second  November  after  Veronica's  en- 
gagement that  Adam  Preston  lost  both  his  parents 


FELICITY  CROFTON  107 

within  a  fortnight  of  each  other.  He  had  not  long 
received  his  commission  which  gave  him  the  poor  con- 
solation of  knowing  that  his  father  had  seen  his  dear- 
est ambition  fulfilled  before  he  died. 

"It's  all  beastly  hard  luck,"  he  wrote  to  Madre  who 
was  then  in  Italy.  "I  am  a  big  sight  too  well  off  for 
my  regiment,  though  I'm  not  going  to  fling  it  up,  or 
settle  down  at  'Pavens.'  They  wouldn't  have  liked 
that,  so  I  am  letting  the  house  furnished." 

He  wrote  fully  to  her  of  the  material  concerns  of 
his  changed  lot,  but  said  little  of  his  feelings,  and  in 
spite  of  Madre's  entreaties,  refused  to  join  them  in 
Switzerland  at  Christmas.  In  some  odd  way  he  en- 
tertained the  idea  that  it  savoured  of  disloyalty,  to 
his  dead  mother,  to  seek  immediate  consolation  with 
Madre. 

Possibly  Madre  understood  or  shared  this  feeling, 
for  she  ceased  to  press  him,  though  her  heart  ached  to 
be  near  him.  They  returned  home,  however,  in  the 
beginning  of  February  instead  of  the  end  of  March,  as 
they  had  intended.  They  stayed  then  in  London  and 
devoted  themselves  to  the  business  of  the  trousseau. 
Adam  came  to  them  readily  enough  then,  and  was 
thankful  for  Madre's  quiet  acceptance  of  the  situa- 
tion. She  did  everything  in  her  power  to  fill  the  gap 
made  in  his  life,  and  in  a  short  time,  by  her  presence 
and  her  letters,  provided  him  with  all  the  sense  of 
home  life  which  he  needed,  though  he  would  most 
certainly  have  denied  its  necessity  to  his  existence. 
Felicity,  with  her  usual  steady  refusal  to  face  self- 
analyses  when  she  held  it  undesirable,  told  herself  that 
it  was  all  for  Adam's  good  that  she  strengthened  the 
tie  between  them  by  all  means  in  her  power.  The 
most  that  she  would  admit  to  herself  beyond  that  was 
that  as  she  was  to  lose  Veronica,  it  was  fortunate  for 
her  that  she  had  a  decent  excuse  to  "mother"  Adam, 
who  at  least  showed  no  inclination  to  marry.  He 


io8  FELICITY  CROFTON 

was  at  present  too  young  and  in  any  case  not  likely 
to  fall  a  prey  to  designing  mammas,  even  when  a  few 
years  older. 

If  she  had  one  complaint  to  make  against  him,  it 
was  that  his  demands  on  her  were  too  few.  Still  his 
visits  were  frequent  and  she  was  at  least  sure  he 
made  no  greater  demands  on  any  one  else.  What 
she  hardly  noticed  was  that  his  visits  coincidented 
very  neatly  with  such  time  as  Dominic's  demands 
on  Veronica  could  not  be  set  aside.  There  were  limits 
at  Felicity's  instinctive  reasoning.  It  did  not  extend 
into  the  region  of  Dominic  Bessington's  possibilities. 

VI 

"Guess  whom  I  met  in  Grafton  Street  to-day!"  cried 
(Veronica,  coming  into  the  sitting-room  at  the  West- 
minster Palace  Hotel. 

Then  she  saw  Adam  was  present  and  altered  her 
words. 

"Madre  sha'n't  guess  now,  because  I  want  to  know 
straightaway,  Eve,  why  you  didn't  tell  us  Stella 
Forrester  was  at  the  Tankards'  house  party  ?" 

"Didn't  I  mention  it?"  said  Adam  unconcernedly. 
"I  suppose  I  forgot.  Are  you  accusing  me  of  a 
crime?" 

"Not  if  you  really  forgot.  It  was  Stella  I  met. 
She  is  up  in  town  to  meet  Mark." 

"Mark?" 

They  were  both  astonished. 

"Yes,  he  has  come  over  on  private  business.  Lord 
Lugan  only  came  as  far  as  Cairo  and  Mark  is  to  join 
him  there  quite  soon.  The  Forresters  only  got  a  wire 
yesterday  telling  them  to  come  up  to  town." 

"Where  are  they  staying?"  asked  Felicity. 

Veronica's  eyes  watched  Adam's  face  as  she  an- 
swered, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  109 

"At  some  tiny  hotel  in  Bloomsbury.  The — the — " 
she  hesitated  still,  looking  at  Adam  as  if  he  could 
help  her  out. 

"Why  Bloomsbury?"  he  asked,  so  naturally  that 
she  acquitted  him  of  more  knowledge. 

"Because  it's  cheap,  of  course — comparatively.  It's 
the  Habberton — Duke  Street.  Mrs.  Forrester  hasn't 
been  out  of  Pieceminster  for  fourteen  years  and  never 
in  a  motor  in  her  life,  so  Stella  is  having  a  glorious 
time!" 

"We  might  call  this  afternoon,"  said  Felicity,  half 
turning  to  Adam. 

"I  shouldn't,"  interposed  Veronica  swiftly.  "Wait 
till  Mark's  here.  He's  to  arrive  to-morrow." 

"You  were  coming  to  buy  those  curtains  my  tenant 
wants,"  said  Adam  reproachfully. 

"So  I  was.    And  you,  Veronica?" 

"Dominic  and  I  are  going  hunting  for  those  etch- 
ings for  the  dining-room."  The  little  cloud  of  un- 
easiness that  had  touched  her  had  melted  away,  but 
she  told  Dominic  about  it  when  they  started  on  their 
hunt. 

"Stella  laid  so  much  stress  on  the  fact  that  Adam 
was  there,  that  it  seemed  odd  he  had  said  nothing 
about  her.  But  I  suppose  that  was  just  Stella!" 

"Don't  be  uncharitable.  It  was  'just  Adam'  also. 
He  would  see  no  reason  for  mentioning  it,  even  if  it 
had  been  of  importance  to  him.  Adam's  not  expan- 
sive over  his  own  affairs." 

"Not  to  the  world — but  to  Madre,  surely !" 

"Not  even  to  Madre,"  returned  Dominic  firmly. 
"He's  not  in  the  least  secretive,  but  he  fails  to  take 
into  account  what  interests  others." 

Veronica  dismissed  the  subject.  Her  interest  was 
at  present  confined  to  the  pictures  they  were  seeking 
for  the  dining-room  of  the  house  that  they  had  taken 
in  Hampstead. 


1 16  FELICITY  CROFTON 


Mark  did  not  wait  for  Felicity  to  call.  Hearing 
that  the  Croftons  were  in  London  he  came  round  to 
see  them  the  first  evening.  He  told  them  his  visit  to 
England  might  be  the  matter  of  a  week  or  a  month. 
In  any  case  he  was  to  join  his  chief  in  Cairo  directly 
it  was  finished.  They  saw  a  great  deal  of  each  other 
in  the  following  days.  Mrs.  Forrester  soon  returned 
to  Pieceminster — by  Mark's  orders.  He  himself  took 
her  down,  which  compensated  her  for  leaving  Stella 
with  the  Croftons. 

Mark  made  the  most  of  his  time,  monopolising 
Madre  as  completely  as  he  could,  so  that  Adam,  who 
seemed  to  have  a  great  deal  of  time  on  hand  just  now, 
was  flung  into  Stella's  company  and  seemed  quite  con- 
tent. 

It  took  Mark  three  days  to  appreciate  the  extent  of 
Adam's  leisure.  Having  appreciated  it,  he  transferred 
most  of  his  attention  from  Madre  to  Adam  himself, 
and  at  the  end  of  a  week  said  he  thought  his  mother 
had  been  long  enough  alone  and  that  Stella  must 
return.  Stella  protested  fiercely  in  private,  but  pub- 
licly submitted  without  complaint.  She  thanked  Mrs. 
Crofton  with  pathetic  earnestness  for  her  kindness, 
and  departed  under  her  brother's  escort. 


VIII 

Veronica  was  married  at  the  end  of  March  at  St. 
Margaret's,  Westminster.  Neither  she  nor  her  mother 
wasted  efforts  trying  to  be  original  over  her  wedding. 
Veronica  said  that  as  every  one  made  that  attempt,  it 
would  be  more  singular  to  be  commonplace,  and  since 
so  many  people  were  married,  weddings  could  not  be 


Ill 

considered  original  in  any  case!  Perhaps  the  most 
singular  thing  about  the  ceremony  itself  was  the  num- 
ber of  guests  under  the  age  of  twenty-five.  Felicity's 
godchildren  alone  were  a  goodly  array  and  the  Priest's 
Park  contingent,  new  and  old,  was  no  inconsiderable 
item. 

Felicity  had  declined  to  take  an  active  part  in  the 
furnishing  of  the  new  house.  She  insisted  that  both 
Dominic  and  Veronica  were  quite  competent  to  deal 
with  their  own  affairs,  and  certainly  it  was  an  affair 
that  kept  Veronica  busy.  Mark's  presence  in  London 
was  a  great  boon  to  Felicity  therefore.  Either  he  or 
Adam  seemed  in  constant  attendance  on  her,  and  Ve- 
ronica less  and  less.  Perhaps  she  preferred  that  the 
loosening  of  the  tie  between  herself  and  her  daughter 
should  be  of  a  voluntary  rather  than  an  obligatory 
nature.  Her  cheerful  spirits  never  seemed  to  fail, 
but  those  friends  who  would  see  her  had  to  come  to 
her.  She  made  the  excellent  excuse  that  she  really 
could  not  wear  herself  out  paying  calls  at  such  a  time, 
and  indeed  she  might  have  run  about  London  for  a 
month  on  end  without  exhausting  possibilities. 

"Fancy  Madre  ever  being  tired  out!"  laughed  one 
of  her  godchildren,  hearing  this. 

"After  all,  she  is  not  so  young  as  she  was,"  retorted 
the  mother  who  had  read  out  the  reason  for  a  refusal 
to  accept  an  invitation  to  a  luncheon  party, 

"She  isn't !  She's  never  any  different !"  declared  all 
the  younger  members  of  the  party  in  chorus. 

"She  doesn't  waste  her  energies  on  absurdities," 
contributed  Mr.  Meredith.  "And,  by  the  way,  some 
of  you  had  better  settle  what  we  are  to  give  Veronica 
for  a  wedding  present" 


ii2  FELICITY,  CROFTON 

IX 

Every  one  had  gone  and  Felicity  and  Mark  were 
alone  in  her  private  sitting-room,  where  the  only  trace 
of  the  event  was  Veronica's  bouquet  in  a  glass  vase 
on  the  table. 

Felicity  lay  back  in  a  deep  chair,  silent  and  still. 
Mark  sat  opposite.  He  was  leaving  England  that 
night,  having  just  succeeded  in  making  his  affairs  last 
over  the  actual  day  of  the  wedding.  He  was  with 
Felicity  now  at  her  request.  Adam  was  busy  helping 
the  principal  bridesmaid  and  Stella,  to  watch  the  re- 
packing of  the  presents. 

Dusk  had  fallen,  but  the  curtains  were  still  unclosed, 
and  outside  the  street  lamps  looked  like  lost  jewels  in 
the  clean  spring  twilight.  The  kaleidoscope  of  Par- 
liament Square  worked  out  its  ever  changing  pattern, 
remote  and  dim,  the  room  was  very  quiet,  and  the  fire 
flickered  pleasantly. 

Mark  broke  the  silence. 

"Madre,"  he  said  abruptly,  "don't  let  Adam  make 
a  fool  of  himself  over  Stella.  They  are  not  in  the 

least  suited  to  each  other Besides,  I  should  hate 

it." 

Felicity,  who  had  brought  Mark  up  here  as  a  refuge 
against  the  tide  of  tugging  thoughts  and  memories, 
looked  up  in  amazement. 

"Stella  and  Adam?  But  Adam  is  much  too  young! 
He  doesn't  care  about  girls  seriously.  He's  not  the 
sort." 

"No,  but  Stella  is.  I  mean,  I  think  she  likes  him — 
But  it  would  be  out  of  the  question.  Perhaps  I'm 
worrying  for  nothing,  but  I  have  to  be  away  and 
Stella  has  really  no  one  to  look  after  her.  My  mother 
doesn't  understand  her  in  the  least.  It  makes  me  as 
fussy  as  an  old  woman,  doesn't  it?  Anyhow,  it's  all 
right,  now  I've  mentioned  it  to  you." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  113 

He  hurried  the  subject  into  oblivion  and  asked  her 
if  she  would  not  come  out  to  India,  but  she  owned 
frankly  that  India  did  not  "call  her."  Too  many 
English,  was  how  she  put  it.  "One  can't  absorb  the 
atmosphere  of  a  new  country  surrounded  by  one's 
fellow  country  men  and  women!" 

They  fell  to  talking  of  their  country  women  out 
there.  Mark  had  made  his  first  essay  in  romance  and 
for  the  first  time  he  told  her  about  it.  She  listened 
sympathetically  and  wondered  what  the  other  woman 
was  really  like.  Mark,  too,  was  young;  was  of  the 
age  that  seeks  incessantly  and  instinctively  some  im- 
mortal salve  against  the  desolate  days  that  Time  holds 
up  for  those  lonely  ones  who  fail  to  find  it.  He  would 
write  and  tell  her  all  about  it  now.  Tell  her  of  the  ups 
and  downs  of  his  search,  of  its  torments  and  sharp 
pleasure,  and  when  it  was  over  and  he  had  found  his 
salve,  he  would  write  no  more,  for  he  would  have  no 
need.  He  was  glad  and  thankful  to  linger  out  these 
last  minutes  of  his  time  here  with  her  in  the 
dusk,  but  all  the  same  he  was  going  back  to  the  real 
"her."  He  was  not  going  into  the  great  loneliness 
again ! 

Mark  said  good-bye,  when  the  need  came,  quickly 
and  kissed  her  hand  in  his  odd  way.  She  fathomed 
the  unspoken  sympathy  he  had  for  her  and  was  grate- 
ful when  he  said  that  Stella  should  not  come  up  to 
say  good-bye  as  Madre  was  obviously  tired  and  should 
rest.  She  called  him  back  as  he  was  going  to  bid  him 
write  to  her  and  tell  all  about  his  other  friend. 

She  was  all  alone  now,  sitting  in  the  darkness,  count- 
ing and  recounting  the  moving  lights  outside.  The 
tearing  tide  was  pulling  the  anchor  of  her  thoughts 
out  to  sea.  One  half  of  her  cried  out  to  drift  away 
with  it,  the  other  for  help  and  new  anchorage.  For 
some  one  to  hold  her  back,  For  there  was  black  ter- 


FELICITY  CROFTON 

ror  hidden  in  that  misty  sea,  and  dangers  she  would 
not  face.  She  must  find  a  safe  and  sure  harbour  again. 
Had  she  not  been  out  to  that  sea  and  found  it  a  deso- 
late waste  of  waters?  It  was  nothing  to  her  that 
others  found  it  a  fairy  sea  and  a  high  road  to  unim- 
agined  joys. 

She  wanted  Adam,  wanted  him  desperately,  clutch- 
ing at  the  thought  of  his  presence  as  at  salvation  and 
yet  lacking  resolution  to  send  for  him.  Then  he  came 
— came  in  quietly,  asked  if  she  would  like  a  light,  was 
content  to  sit  in  darkness,  that  being  her  whim,  re- 
plenished the  fire,  said  it  had  been  rather  a  jolly  wed- 
ding, not  so  stupid  as  most,  and  that  the  last  brides- 
maid had  gone  and  he  was  glad  there  wasn't  a  party 
to  dinner,  only  themselves  and  Fafner. 

She  turned  her  face  towards  him  in  the  darkness 
and  answered  softly  at  need  and  at  length  bade  him 
give  her  light. 

As  he  pulled  the  curtains  (he  was  careful  not  to 
call  a  waiter  just  yet),  he  said  casually, 

"I've  got  a  few  days  leave  to  run  down  to  JJevon 
about  that  farm  property.  I  suppose  you  wouldn't  care 
to  come  and  help  me  settle  whether  I  sell  or  keep?" 

Here  was  good  anchorage;  she  clutched  at  it. 
Slowly  the  tide  turned.  The  sucking  waters  still 
lapped  round  her,  but  her  mind  ceased  to  answer  their 
call. 

It  was  content  to  discuss  the  question  of  Devon  pas- 
turage and  the  question  of  buying  or  selling.  She 
knew  in  her  heart  of  hearts  that  Adam  needed  no 
advice  to  help  him  determine  his  own  actions,  but  she 
could  at  least  pretend  he  wanted  her  company. 

In  this  way  she  gained  some  hours  respite,  and  the 
little  quiet  dinner  with  Adam  and  her  brother  was  a 
cheerful  one.  Mr.  Fraser  told  Adam  afterwards  that 
he  was  much  relieved  at  the  way  his  sister  was  taking 
the  loss  of  Veronica, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  115 

"That  Devon  idea  of  yours  is  excellent,"  he  said. 
"It  was  a  kind  thought." 

Adam  replied  uncomfortably  that  it  was  really  very 
boring  going  down  alone.  He  had  tried  it  and  there 
was  no  one  else  he  could  ask. 

That  night  the  tide  had  it  all  its  own  way  with 
Felicity  and  she  drifted  in  the  darkness  out  to  that 
drowning  waste  of  waters,  and  when  through  the  dark- 
ness a  form  bent  down  to  save  her  and  she  stretched 
out  her  hands  to  it,  she  saw  it  was  Dominic,  and 
straightway  called  for  Adam!  Adam!  But  Adam 
made  no  answer,  and  in  straining  to  hear  his  voice  she 
awoke  in  the  cold  dawn. 


u6  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER  V 


JANE,  having  cleared  breakfast,  shook  out  the  faded 
tablecloth  and  replaced  it.  She  did  not  put  it  on 
evenly  because  to  do  so  would  be  to  bring  a  big  stain 
into  a  prominent  place,  so  it  was  allowed  to  hang 
down  more  on  one  side  than  the  other.  Stella  stood 
in  the  window  and  watched  her  with  sombre  discon- 
tent. When  she  had  gone  she  looked  round  the  shabby 
room  and  the  discontent  deepened. 

"We  could  do  with  a  new  tablecloth,"  she  said  sud- 
denly, so  suddenly  that  Mrs.  Forrester  quite  jumped. 
She  was  knitting  as  usual. 

"My  dear  child,  you  made  me  drop  a  stitch!" 

She  looked  at  the  tablecloth  also. 

"I  think  it  ought  to  do  a  little  longer,"  she  said 
with  an  anxious  note  in  her  voice.  "I  should  like  to 
have  a  new  one  when  Mark  is  coming  home!  If  we 
get  one  now  it  will  not  look  fresh." 

Stella  flung  down  the  duster  she  held  and  stamped 
her  foot. 

"Probably  it  would  be  worn  out  by  then.  Mark 
won't  be  in  a  hurry  to  take  leave !  If  we  are  never  to 
have  anything  new  or  decent  in  the  house  till  he  does, 
we  shall  live  in  rags.  Isn't  any  one  but  Mark  entitled 
to  see  pretty  or  even  clean  things  ?  Except  when  he's 
at  home  the  house  isn't  fit  to  live  in.  He  doesn't  know 


FELICITY  CROFTON 

the  horrible  shabbiness  of  it  all  or  that  it's  only  when 
he's  home  we  take  the  covers  off  the  chairs  and  have 
curtains  that  haven't  holes  and  decent  table  covers — 
oh,  I'm  sick  to  death  of  it!" 

Mrs.  Forrester  looked  shocked  and  frightened.  She 
put  out  her  shaking  hand  with  a  deprecating  air. 

"But  Stella,  my  darling,  that's  why  the  things 
have  lasted  so  long — are  so  good  still !  How  should  I 
buy  any  new  things  if  these  wore  out?  One  has  to  be 
careful  with  our  means — and  Mark — " 

"Mark  doesn't  take  any  money  from  you.  He  told 
me  so,"  objected  Stella  swiftly.  "You  haven't  his 
education  to  pay  now,  and  we've  three  hundred  a  year. 
We  ought  to  have  ordinary  decency." 

Mrs.  Forrester  began  to  cry. 

"That  any  one — and  my  own  daughter — should  call 
my  house  indecent — I  am  sure  we  have  lovely  things !" 

"Locked  away!"  flashed  out  Stella  remorselessly, 
unmoved  by  the  old  woman's  tears.  "Piles  of  things ! 
— that's  the  wretchedness  of  it — there's  that  Indian 
shawl—" 

Mrs.  Forrester  nearly  shrieked. 

"What,  use  that?  For  every  day?  With  the  sun 
on  it,  and  the  gravy  and  Jane?  Stella,  you  must  be 
out  of  your  mind !" 

Her  hand  clutched  the  little  basket  of  keys  beside 
her  as  if  she  feared  a  raid  on  her  hoard  that  very 
moment. 

"I  suppose  you  are  keeping  it  for  Mark's  children 
instead  of  your  own!"  The  bitterness  of  years  welled 
up  in  her  voice. 

"Stella,  how  can  you  be  so  indelicate,  and  Mark 
not  married !" 

Stella  turned  suddenly  and  left  the  room  and  silence 
fell  on  the  shabby  apartment. 

Mrs.  Forrester  wiped  her  eyes  and  renewed  her 
knitting,  with  occasional  furtive  glances  at  the  door. 


ii8  FELICITY  CROFTON 

There  was  something  furtive  and  cautious  about  her 
every  movement.  She  even  knitted  as  if  she  would 
rather  conceal  than  not  the  implements  in  her  hands. 
Presently  she  laid  her  needles  down  and  listened  at- 
tentively. The  front  door  shut  with  a  bang  and 
immediately  after  the  gate  clicked.  Stella  had  gone 
out,  oblivious  of  the  dusting  still  undone.  Mrs.  For- 
rester rose  very  quietly  and  going  to  the  table  exam- 
ined the  cloth  carefully.  It  was  a  chenille  cloth,  much 
faded  and  stained,  with  at  least  three  cleaners'  marks 
still  in  evidence.  The  edge  was  torn  and  had  been 
roughly  mended. 

''There  are  no  holes,"  said  Mrs.  Forrester  to  her- 
self. "I  can't  see  why  Stella — of  course,  we  wouldn't 
like  a  man  to  see  it,  but " 

She  stood  upright,  fingering  it  and  thinking. 

"There's  the  purple  cloth.  I  meant  to  give  it  to 
Stella  when  she  married  but  she  won't  marry  now, 
and  if  she  preferred  to  use  it " 

She  looked  round  the  room  again  and  out  of  the 
window. 

In  the  same  furtive  manner  she  took  a  key  from  the 
little  basket  that  never  left  her  side  and  unlocked  a 
deep  drawer  in  the  old  mahogany  bureau.  Even  when 
unlocked,  she  hesitated  to  pull  it  open  till  she  had 
again  made  sure  there  was  no  one  in  the  garden  to 
observe  her. 

The  contents  of  the  drawer  were  covered  with  blue 
tissue  paper  which,  removed,  revealed  a-  collection  of 
shawls,  covers,  tapestries,  and  eastern  embroideries 
that  would  have  transformed  the  shabby  room  into  a 
domain  of  rich  harmonies.  Mrs.  Forrester  turned 
them  over  with  fond  hands  and  gloating  eyes.  They 
were  all  either  of  sufficient  age  to  enhance  their  actual 
value  or  of  a  new  freshness  that  had  never  been  toned 
by  daylight.  On  the  top  lay  the  heavy  purple  cloth 
with  the  embroidered  corners  that  was  used  when 


FELICITY  CROFTON  ne>' 

Mark  was  at  home.  There  were  embroidered  cushion 
covers  that  slipped  on  over  the  faded  ones  now  in 
evidence,  an  Afghan  rug  which  Mark  always  connected 
with  the  sofa — other  things,  besides  dainty  table  linen, 
cobwebby  doylies,  beautiful  scarves.  Mrs.  Forrester 
turned  them  over,  shaking  her  head.  Finally  she  un- 
earthed a  soft  terra-cotta  cover  that  bore  the  hallmark 
of  Liberty's.  It  was  just  a  little  faded  "shop-window 
soiled."  She  had  bought  it  as  a  great  bargain  many 
years  before.  She  drew  it  out  with  quicker  fingers 
than  one  would  have  credited  to  her  usual  movements 
and  spread  it  on  the  table.  It  certainly  gave  a  dif- 
ferent aspect  to  the  room  and  went  well  enough  with 
the  plain  painted  walls  which  so  revolted  Stella's 
colour-loving  soul.  Mrs.  Forrester  replaced  the  fern 
pot  in  the  centre  of  the  table,  closed  the  drawer  with- 
out locking  it,  and  sitting  down  resumed  her  knitting 
with  one  eye  on  the  table,  so  to  speak. 

A  big  sleepy  cat  which  had  been  dozing  contently 
on  the  sofa,  chose  to  awake,  and  arching  his  back  with 
voluptuous  enjoyment  of  moving  muscles  sniffed  at 
something  new  in  the  room.  It  must  be  investigated 
and  with  a  slow  deliberate  spring  he  jumped  on  the 
table. 

Mrs.  Forrester's  knitting  fell  to  the  ground  and 
she  jumped  up  with  a  little  shriek. 

"Haffy,  Harry,  get  down!  Oh,  you  dreadful  crea- 
ture! You'll  put  your  claws  into  it!" 

She  caught  the  cat  about  its  middle  and  deposited 
him  outside  the  door  with  startling  rapidity.  Then  she 
turned  to  the  table,  and  shaking  her  head,  and  pursing 
her  lips,  removed  the  new  table  cover,  folded  it  care- 
fully, and  replaced  it  in  the  drawer  which  she  now 
locked. 

"It  would  never  do!  I  can't  see  there  is  anything 
very  bad  in  the  old  cloth,"  said  Mrs.  Forrester  to  her- 
self. "Stella  has  such  extravagant  ideas!  There 


120  FELICITY  CROFTON 

would  be  nothing  for  them  when  I  died  if  I  listened 
to  her." 

Meanwhile  Stella,  oblivious  of  household  duties, 
had  gone  out.  She  did  not  turn  townward,  but  west- 
ward towards  the  railway  by  the  Walk.  This  was  the 
new  short  cut  to  the  station  which,  with  its  gravelled 
way,  its  lamps  and  seats,  had  been  the  objective  of  a 
bitter  newspaper  war  some  two  years  ago.  It  was 
usually  deserted  except  just  at  train  times  when  the 
instigators  and  promoters  of  the  innovation  made  a 
point  of  using  it,  and  remarked  on  its  convenient 
shortness  to  the  station,  while  its  opponents  stuck  to 
the  old  muddy  road  and  declared  they  saved  a  minute 
and  a  half  by  so  doing. 

Stella  sat  down  on  a  seat  and  took  a  letter  from  her 
pocket.  She  had  read  it  before  in  the  privacy  of  her 
bedroom  and  she  wanted  to  read  it  again  in  the  com- 
parative privacy  of  the  Walk,  though  there  was  no 
reason  on  earth  why  she  should  not  have  read  it  under 
her  mother's  very  nose. 

Dear  Miss  Forrester: 

I  am  coming  down  to  Pieceminster  this  week-end  to  see 
some  hunting  stables,  and  shall  like  to  call  and  see  you,  if 
you  permit,  on  Saturday  afternoon.  I  hope  you  are  well  and 
not  taking  too  long  walks  and  getting  knocked  up.  Please 
give  my  kind  regards  to  Mrs.  Forrester  and  believe  me, 

Yours  sincerely, 

"ADAM  PRESTON. 

There  was  certainly  nothing  in  the  wording  of  the 
letter  to  feed  the  emotions  or  cause  a  heartbeat,  yet 
Stella,  sitting  alone  between  the  clipped  hedges  of  the 
Walk,  concocted  out  of  it  a  situation  and  an  excite- 
ment that  called  for  the  gravest  deliberation  on  her 
part. 

She  believed  Adam  to  be  in  love  with  her,  though 
he  had  never  said  so  in  so  many  words ;  and  she  was 


FELICITY  CROFTON  121 

in  love  with  him,  though  with  that  queer,  crooked 
streak  that  warped  her  nature  she  pretended  to  herself 
that  she  was  only  in  love  with  what  he  could  give  her ! 
She  even  took  herself  seriously  to  task  for  contem- 
plating a  mercenary  marriage;  criticised  herself  as  a 
mere  adventuress  and  found  some  odd  zest  added  to 
her  dreary  life  by  that  mental  gymnastic.  Even  with 
facts  facing  her  in  her  favour  she  could  not  be  wholly 
honest  with  herself.  She  had  really  done  nothing  to 
call  Adam  Preston  to  her  side.  She  had  seen  him 
twice  since  Veronica's  wedding  two  years  ago.  Once 
more  at  the  Tankards',  who  were  distant  cousins  of 
hers  and  remembered  it  once  each  year,  and  again  at 
a  big  show  at  Aldershot,  to  which  some  good-natured 
neighbours  had  taken  her.  By  some  happy  chance 
she  had  found  herself  lunching  with  Adam's  regi- 
ment. On  both  these  occasions  he  had  signalled  her 
out — or  so  she  fancied — for  special  attention,  and  she 
took  credit  to  herself  that  she  had  resisted  an  excuse 
to  correspond. 

She  could  now  allow  herself  the  poor  reward  of 
posing  in  her  own  eyes  as  the  unhappy  victim  of  a 
brother's  harshness.  For  Mark  had  no  way  approved 
of  Adam's  apparent  infatuation,  and  had  told  Stella 
so  with  the  blunt  certainty  that  she  found  so  galling 
and  he  found  the  only  effectual  weapon  against  her 
ever-ready  sham  heroics. 

Having  cultivated  so  little  the  virtues  of  a  cheerful 
temper  it  is  hardly  surprising  that  at  this  juncture 
her  usual  pessimism  failed  to  picture  a  successful  issue 
to  Adam  Preston's  wooing,  and  since  she  decided  it 
was  predoomed  to  failure,  she  harvested  a  goodly 
crop  of  self-pity  sufficient  to  render  herself  really  un- 
happy. 

There  was  at  least  reality  in  her  unhappiness,  what- 
ever fiction  might  be  the  original  cause  of  it. 

She  was  now  under  the  curious  mental  delusion 


122  FELICITY  CROFTON 

that  it  depended  on  her  as  to  whether  Adam  should 
come  to  Pieceminster  or  not,  that  she  must  decide  now 
at  once  whether  she  would  "draw  him  on"  for  her  own 
ends  or  obey  the  uncompromising  "command"  of  her 
brother  to  "let  his  greatest  friend  alone."  And  Adam 
seemed  to  offer  her  one  chance  of  escape  from  the 
sordid  life  at  the  Laurels. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  matter  did  not  rest  with 
Stella  at  all.  Adam  certainly  thought  of  her  as 
neither  enticing  nor  repelling  him.  He  merely  thought 
she  behaved  with  the  reticence  that  a  rather  shy 
and  lonely  girl  might  be  expected  to  show.  It  was 
very  suitable  and  rather  attractive.  He  was  really 
coming  to  Pieceminster  to  see  some  hunters,  and  some 
hunting  stables,  and  he  was  pleased  that  it  gave  him 
a  chance  of  meeting  her.  If  she  had  refused  to  set 
eyes  on  him,  however,  he  would  still  have  to  come 
to  see  to  his  business.  Adam  was  too  much  given  to 
sitting  tight  on  his  emotions  to  be  desperately  in  love 
yet,  but  it  pleased  him  to  think  of  Stella  Forrester, 
and  her  pathetic  eyes  lived  in  his  memory.  He  was 
convinced  the  world  was  a  rough  place  for  her,  and 
it  was  a  self-evident  duty  of  any  man  to  make  it  a 
little  easier  and  pleasant  for  her  if  he  could.  In 
short,  Adam  was  not  yet  fully  in  love,  but  it  would 
require  a  very  little  push  to  send  him  over  the  preci- 
pice of  that  most  deadly  of  all  attacks — magnanimous 
devotion.  But  the  push  need  not  necessarily  come 
from  Stella  herself,  though  she  could  not  and  did 
not  even  wish  to  believe  this.  She  wanted  to 
have  a  hand  in  moulding  the  really  very  simple  out- 
line of  her  future,  and  once  her  fingers  concerned 
itself  with  it,  its  simplicity  would  be  destroyed  for- 
ever. 

She  desired  most  passionately  to  marry  and  escape 
her  present  life.  Every  good  impulse  in  her  pushed 
her  towards  it.  But  linked  with  her  good  impulses  was 


FELICITY  CROFTON  123 

that  natural  tendency  towards  secrecy,  towards  de- 
vious ways  rather  than  straight  ones. 

She  told  herself  now  that  Mark  would  be  sure  to 
have  warned  her  mother  not  to  encourage  Adam,  and 
that  if  she  told  her  mother  now  of  Adam's  intended 
visit,  Mrs.  Forrester,  to  whom  Mark's  slightest  wish 
was  law,  would  find  means  to  prevent  their  meeting, 
even  if  he  called  at  the  shabby  little  house.  True,  he 
had  stayed  there  with  Mark  when  the  shabbiness  was 
disguised,  and  the  dull  rooms  blossomed  with  a  pa- 
thetic array  of  treasures  from  the  past.  Her  mother 
would  never  consent  to  put  these  out  unless  a  visitor 
was  definitely  expected.  If  Adam  came  and  saw  the 
house  as  it  was  now  would  he  ever  come  again,  and  if 
she  warned  her  mother  he  was  coming,  would  not  Mrs. 
Forrester,  mindful  of  Mark,  employ  her  by  no  means 
unresourceful  brains  in  finding  ways  to  prevent  Stella 
and  Adam  being  five  minutes  alone  together?  She 
soon  forced  herself  to  believe  that  it  was  necessary 
for  her  to  see  Adam  before  her  mother  knew  of  his 
presence  in  Pieceminster,  and  she  thought  elaborate 
plans  for  the  fulfilment  of  even  this  really  simple  af- 
fair, but  her  plans,  if  intricate,  were  well  designed  to 
her  purpose  and  left  little  to  chance. 


II 

Adam  arrived  at  eleven  on  Saturday  and  was  met 
by  Walter  Burford,  the  local  vet.,  with  a  dog-cart, 
and  drove  out  to  inspect  the  possible  purchase, 
which  business  occupied  all  the  morning  and  left 
some  further  inspection  for  the  Sunday  afternoon. 
They  drove  back  into  Pieceminster  about  one  o'clock, 
and  on  the  bridge  just  outside  the  town,  Adam  sud- 
denly told  Burford  to  stop  and  he  would  walk  the 
rgst  of  the  way.  Burford  looked  round,  as  he  went 


124  FELICITY  CROFTON 

off,  and  muttered  to  himself:  "Shouldn't  wonder  if 
something  more  than  horses  brought  him  down  here." 

Now  Stella  had  seen  Adam's  arrival  at  the  station, 
and  seen  him  drive  off  with  Burford.  She  had  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  Walk  when  the  train  arrived,  and 
from  there  one  could  see  the  station  exit.  She  knew 
just  what  horses  he  had  gone  to  see,  and  she  knew 
also  that  Mr.  Burford  was  not  at  all  likely  to  forego 
his  free  Saturday  afternoon,  which  he  devoted  to  golf, 
by  allowing  Adam  to  stay  too  long  over  his  inspec- 
tion. They  would  return  about  one  o'clock,  she  reck- 
oned, and  reckoned  rightly,  at  which  hour  she  dis- 
covered that  she  had  an  errand  at  the  end  of  High 
Street.  She  had  just  reached  the  bridge  that  led  out 
of  the  town  when  Adam  and  Burford  drove  in,  and, 
seeing  her,  he  had  stopped  the  dogcart  and  dis- 
mounted. There  was  no  sign  of  all  her  intricate  cal- 
culations visible  in  her  rather  shy  and  embarrassed 
welcome,  and  she  turned  instinctively  homeward,  for- 
getful of  her  errand,  for  her  capacity  for  concocting 
plans  surpassed  her  capability  of  carrying  them  out  in 
detail. 

Adam  said  he  was  lucky  to  meet  her,  and  asked  in 
the  same  breath  if  she  had  received  his  letter. 

She  nodded,  looking  ahead  with  puzzled  eyes. 

"You  don't  look  well,"  he  insisted;  "and  I  had 
hoped  you  would  be  pleased  to  see  me." 

"I  am;  in  fact,  I'm  extra  glad  to  have  met  you.  I 
was  wondering  what  to  do." 

"Did  you  think  I  should  forget  to  call?" 

"No ;  but  I  wanted  to  see  you  first.  Mr.  Preston — • 
I  want—" 

She  stammered  a  little,  and  the  eyes  that  met  his 
were  beseeching. 

"Well,  you  are  seeing  me  first.  What's  the  mat- 
ter?" 

"I  can't  explain  here  in  the  street,"  she  said  hur- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  125 

riedly,  "but  if  you  wouldn't  mind — wouldn't  think  it 
terrible — I — I — am  going  out  to  the  Minster  Field 
after  lunch "  Her  voice  trailed  off. 

Adam  knit  his  brows. 

"I  may  come  too?"  he  demanded  sharply. 

"Would  you?  I  want  to  explain — want  your  ad- 
vice. It's  so  difficult;  I  have  no  one  to  help  me." 

Adam  was  all  concern  and  pity  in  a  moment. 

"Of  course  I'll  help  you.  Where's  the  Minster 
Field  ?  Can't  I  call  for  you  first  ?" 

"No,  no!"  she  interposed  quickly,  and  proceeded  to 
give  him  the  necessary  information. 

Adam  parted  from  her  at  the  corner  of  Roden 
Road,  and  walked  back  quickly  to  the  hotel.  He  was 
hungry  and  rather  annoyed  with  an  indefinite  some 
one  or  something  which  appeared  to  demand  of  him 
such  a  foolish  deviation  from  the  obvious.  Probably 
it  wasn't  demanded  at  all;  only  Stella — poor  little 
girl — wasn't  able  to  cope  with  some  simple  predica- 
ment. In  any  case,  there  could  be  no  harm  in  going 
for  a  walk  with  her  before  calling  at  the  Laurels,  as 
he  fully  meant  to  do. 

in 

"But  I  still  don't  understand,"  protested  Adam, 
frowning  heavily.  "Why  should  Mrs.  Forrester  not 
want  to  see  me?  She  was  always  very  jolly  to  me 
when  I  stayed  here  before." 

Stella's  embarrassment  was  not  in  the  least  feigned 
this  time.  It  was  difficult  to  put  forth  any  reasonable 
excuse  for  Mrs.  Forrester's  supposed  reluctance  to 
see  any  one.  Moreover,  she  was  beginning  to  realise 
that  it  was  not  so  easy  to  lead  Adam  into  twisted 
paths  as  she  had  imagined.  It  might  even  be  that  to 
insist  on  concealing  their  friendship  would  be  to  can- 
cel it  altogether,  so  set  was  Adam  on  storming  the 


126  FELICITY  CROFTON 

position  her  imagination  had  created.  She,  therefore, 
took  refuge  in  pure  unvarnished  truth,  and  the  most 
calculated  fictions  could  not  have  served  her  purpose 
better,  for  it  aroused  his  chivalry  and  pity  by  the 
very  simplicity  it  betrayed. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  how  to  explain,"  she  faltered, 
"but  we  aren't  well  off,  you  know — it's  all  so  shabby 
— and  mean — I  couldn't  bear " 

There  were  genuine  tears  in  her  eyes,  for  she  hon- 
estly feared  that  the  shabby  influence  of  her  surround- 
ings might  frighten  him  off,  so  dwarfed  and  cramped 
was  her  appreciation  of  character. 

Adam  was  struck  to  the  heart  It  seemed  to  him 
little  less  than  horrible  that  circumstances  should  have 
made  this  delicate,  shy  girl  so  aware  of  the  cruel  snob- 
bishness of  the  world  that  she  could  accredit  him 
with  a  taint  of  it.  He  got  a  little  red,  and  stammered 
out  an  answer  with  eager  protest. 

"Oh,  I  say,  Miss  Forrester,  haven't  I  stayed  with 
you?  And  I  enjoyed  it  ever  so  much!  Of  course,  I 
know — Mark  told  me — that  you  are  not  amongst  the 
lucky  rich,  but  it  only  makes  it  the  more  splendid  to 
think  how  you  have  made  it  possible  for  Mark  to  go 
in  for  what  he  wanted." 

"It's  worse  than  when  you  were  here  before,"  she 
murmured. 

"But  you  oughtn't  to  think  like  that  about  your 
friends!  It's  not  fair  to  them.  It  just  shows  how 
badly  you  want  some  one  to  look  after  you." 

She  was  not  altogether  displeased  at  this  new  role ; 
indeed,  a  few  minutes  later  she  came  to  believe  in  it, 
abandoning  the  more  ambitious  one  of  adventures  for 
the  easier  one  of  touching  simplicity. 

Adam  went  back  to  tea  with  her  at  the  Laurels  as 
he  had  intended.  Stella  showed  him  into  the  drawing- 
room  and  sent  Jane  to  light  the  fire  while  she  went  to 
warn  her  mother.  Adam  would  have  preferred  tea 


FELICITY  CROFTON  127 

in  the  dining-room  and  no  fuss,  but  he  supposed  Mrs. 
Forrester  must  be  humoured.  Stella  had  hinted  with 
a  faint  sigh  that  her  mother  was  old-fashioned  and 
—difficult 

Adam  called  again  on  Sunday,  and  in  the  evening 
returned  to  town  convinced  that  Mark's  sister  had  a 
wretched  life,  and  that  Mark  should  be  ashamed  of 
himself  for  not  seeing  to  it  that  she  had  a  better. 
Women — especially  women  like  Stella — ought  not  to 
be  called  upon  to  face  sordid  details — and  Stella  was 
delicate,  he  was  sure. 

He  wrote  to  Stella  now,  and  if  her  replies  to  his 
letters  were  more  expansive  than  his  communications, 
that  fault  lay  rather  in  his  general  incapacity  for 
words  rather  than  in  any  lack  of  interest  on  his  part. 
In  two  months  he  was  convinced  that  Stella's  exist- 
ence depended  on  her  escape  from  her  surroundings. 
He  was  certain  Stella  was  in  love  with  him,  and  this 
without  any  shade  of  vanity  on  his  part.  He  was 
incapable  of  self-analysis,  so  he  just  decided  that  if 
Stella  loved  him  it  was  because  he — Adam  Preston — 
was  in  love  with  her,  and  had  succeeded  in  making  her 
care  for  him. 

As  soon  as  ever  this  was  apparent  to  him,  he  sat 
down  and  wrote  her  a  very  proper  and  serious  offer 
of  marriage,  awaited  the  result  without  great  trepida- 
tion, and  was — in  his  own  language — struck  all  of  a 
heap  when  Stella  wrote  a  tearful  protest  of  undying 
affection  and  farewell.  Her  mother  had  insisted  on 
seeing  the  letter  and  decided  it  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. 

Adam  could  not  get  away  just  then,  and  fretted 
with  impatience  at  being  reduced  to  postal  attacks 
on  the  situation,  which  he  declared  should  offer  no 
difficulties  whatever.  He  said  frankly  he  wished  Stella 
Jia4  left  it  to  him  to  approach  her  mother,  but  that, 


128  FELICITY  CROFTON 

under  the  circumstances,  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to 
await  his  first  free  day,  when  he  would  come  down  and 
see  Mrs.  Forrester  himself,  and  meanwhile  Stella  had 
better  say  nothing.  It  would  be  all  right.  They  were 
going  to  get  married,  and  a  few  difficulties  would  only 
increase  their  happiness.  He  felt  quite  proud  of  that 
expression,  feeling  it  bordered  on  the  emotional. 


IV 

What  had  actually  happened  at  the  Laurels  was 
this: 

Stella  had  been  quite  taken  aback  by  Adam's  prompt 
arrival  at  the  decision  to  which  she  had  imagined  she 
was  tactfully  leading  him.  She  had  not  expected  re- 
sults for  another  two  months,  which  would  have  given 
her  time  to  get  an  answer  from  Mark  to  what  she 
conceived  to  be  a  diplomatic  letter.  Adam's  directness 
scattered  her  plans  for  the  time.  She  was  quite 
pleased  at  the  proposal,  though  she  sighed  a  little  over 
its  curt  brevity  (Adam  had  nearly  torn  it  up  as  too 
fulsome !)  but  the  more  she  viewed  the  simple  outcome 
of  it,  which  Adam  evidently  expected,  the  more  dis- 
satisfied she  became.  Supposing  Mark  was  "sensible" 
(and  she  was  by  no  means  sure  of  this),  and  she  be- 
came properly  engaged  and  in  a  month  or  two  mar- 
ried? 

Married  at  Pieceminster  from  the  Laurels — a 
skimpy,  commonplace  sort  of  wedding  with  a  pretence 
at  a  trousseau  at  which  all  her  friends  would  scoff 
behind  her  back — and  Uncle  Ben,  whom  she  so  dis- 
liked, to  give  her  away,  Hilda  Peason  and  Mary  Gab- 
bins  as  bridesmaids — little  beasts ! —  a  third-rate  wed- 
ding cake  from  the  shop  in  High  Street — and  Adam's 
rich  friends  and  relations  to  pour  scorn  on  it  all? 

The  thought  of  it  all  maddened  her.     She  would 


FELICITY  CROFTON  129 

almost  rather  never  marry  at  all  than  marry  like  that. 
It  was  so  commonplace,  so  banal — and,  besides  this, 
supposing  Mark  was  sensible  and  did  not  insist 
on  stupid  confidences  being  made.  Why  should  Adam 
know  of  that  silly  school-girl  episode — nothing  had 
happened — but  the  tragedy  of  a  broken  heart.  She 
had  conceived  it  broken  once — why  should  Adam 
know?  Mrs.  Crofton  had  advised  forgetting  it,  but 
there  was  always  Mark,  with  his  stupid  ideas  about 
not  taking  advantage  of  his  friend! 

In  ten  minutes  Stella  had  convinced  herself  that 
Mark  would  insist  on  Adam's  knowing  and  that  Adam 
would  never  understand,  and  that  the  door  of  escape 
would  be  closed  forever. 

At  the  midday  dinner  Mrs.  Forrester  had  asked  who 
she  had  heard  from,  and  in  answer  Stella  had  in 
silence  and  with  considerable  dignity  laid  Adam's  let- 
ter before  her. 

"Well,  well,  well,  my  dear,"  cried  Mrs.  Forrester, 
when  she  had  finished  it.  "Of  course  it  is  a  great 
chance  for  you,  but  we  must  wait  and  see  what  Mark 
says." 

Stella  flashed  round  at  her  in  an  outbreak  of  gen- 
uine passion. 

"Mark?  What  has  it  to  do  with  Mark?  Why 
should  I  wait  to  hear  what  he  says  ?  It  is  I  who  am 
asked  to  marry  Adam — not  Mark !" 

Mrs.  Forrester  was  deeply  perturbed.  She  did  her 
best  to  appease  her  offended  daughter,  but  the  habit 
of  years  was  too  strong  for  her  to  discountenance 
Mark's  authority.  She  merely  suggested  a  compro- 
mise which  deceived  neither  of  them. 

"Dear  child,  Mr.  Preston  is  Mark's  greatest  friend. 
Of  course  he  will  be  pleased.  I  only  meant  to  say  he 
was  the  only  man  nearly  concerned  for  you,  and  it 
would  be  only  right  to  tell  him  before  answering." 

Stella  gave  a  little  hard  laugh. 


I3o  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"What  you  really  meant  to  say  was  that  Mark 
does  not  want  me  to  marry  Adam — Mark  always  dis- 
liked me,  always  sees  the  worst  of  me,  and  he  doesn't 
think  me  good  enough  for  Adam!  You  needn't  trou- 
ble to  explain  it  away.  Mark  told  me  as  much  before 
he  went." 

Mrs.  Forrester  began  weeping. 

"I  am  sure  Mark  only  wants  to  do  what  is  right 
and  best  for  you.  It  isn't  right  to  say  he  dislikes 
you — he's  your  brother — and  I  am  sure  a  very " 

Stella  interrupted  again  as  she  leant  over  and  gath- 
ered up  her  letter. 

"And  I  am  sure  Mark  will  do  anything  he  can  to 
stop  my  happiness.  He  won't  even  think  of  you! 
Adam  is  rich  and  could  do  heaps  for  us.  You  might 
think  of  that.  Mark  will  make  it  the  excuse  to  refuse." 

She  had  touched  the  most  vulnerable  spot  in  her 
mother's  armour,  and  she  watched  the  effect  of  her 
words  with  an  odd  sense  of  shame.  She  was  not  sure 
if  she  wanted  her  mother  to  consent  to  her  marriage 
or  not,  but  she  was  sure  now  she  wanted  to  marry 
Adam  at  all  costs — before  Mark  had  any  voice  in  the 
matter.  Already  to  her  ill-balanced  mind  Mark's  op- 
position had  assumed  gigantic  proportions  and  she  had 
persuaded  herself  it  was  a  fight  between  him  and  her- 
self for  the  possession  of  Adam.  There  is  no  doubt 
the  vivid  pictures  her  fertile  imagination  had  drawn 
of  that  third-rate  wedding  lent  force  to  her  illusions 
and  she  was  by  now  incapable  of  disentangling  the 
grain  of  truth  on  which  that  illusion  rested. 

But  because  there  was  a  grain  of  truth  in  it  she 
was  enabled  in  subsequent  correspondence  to  impress 
the  same  on  Adam,  till  he  at  last  shared  her  belief 
that  for  unknown  reasons  Mark  would  oppose  the 
marriage  and  that  Mrs.  Forrester  was  really  rendering 
poor  Stella's  life  miserable  by  secret  opposition. 

so,  Adam  was  just  to  Mark  and  saw  nothing 


FELICITY  CROFTON  131 

worse  in  his  old  friend's  attitude  than  a  silly  pride 
that  he — a  poor  man — had  secured  his  richest  friend 
for  his  sister.  It  was  ridiculous  of  Mark,  but  Adam 
did  not  consider  it  unnatural,  and  was  for  writing 
direct  and  squashing  any  such  objection  forever. 
Stella  argued  that  Mark  would  then  telegraph  direct 
to  her  mother,  who  would  hold  tenaciously  to  any 
command  thus  received  and  probably  dispatch  her  to 
a  remote  corner  of  Ireland,  where  Uncle  Ben  and  his 
uncongenial  offspring  lived. 

The  groundwork  for  this  assertion  lay  in  the  fact 
that  one  day  Mrs.  Forrester,  troubled  by  Stella's 
tragic  face,  had  asked  her  if  she  would  like  to  go  to 
the  Grossman's  in  Ireland  till  they  could  hear  from 
Mark,  for  she  had  adhered  with  all  the  obstinacy  of  a 
weak  person  to  her  refusal  to  allow  any  engagement 
till  Mark  approved. 

Adam  began  to  lose  patience.  He  could  make  noth- 
ing at  all  about  this  bother  over  so  simple  a  matter. 
Mrs.  Forrester,  when  interviewed,  had  been  person- 
ally nice  to  him,  but  she  refused  to  discuss  the  situa- 
tion, saying  she  was  only  an  old  woman  and  had  prom- 
ised Mark  to  refer  Stella's  future  to  him.  She  re- 
sisted all  Adam's  attempts  to  come  straight  to  the 
point  with  a  clever  ability  that  annoyed  him  and  made 
him  the  readier  to  believe  Stella's  hints  of  undue  pres- 
sure and  persecution,  which  were  underlined  by  her 
white  face  and  shadowed  eyes. 

At  length  he  arrived  at  the  point  towards  which 
she  was  now  definitely  striving,  and  that  was  a  mar- 
riage by  special  license  in  London,  and  so  "an  end  to 
this  nonsense!" 

He  wrote  her  as  follows : 

I  am  not  a  scoundrel  or  unfit  to  be  your  husband.  I  am 
not  a  minor — nor  are  you.  I  can  keep  you  in  something 
more  than  comfort,  and  there's  no  sense  in  this  idiotic  posi- 
tion. I  should  marry  you,  whatever  Mark  says.  So  why 


132  FELICITY  CROFTON 

wait  and  worry  yourself  ill  for  nothing?  If  you  care  for 
me  enough  to  do  without  all  the  fuss  of  an  ordinary  wed- 
ding, you  had  better  come  up  to  London  by  the  10 :04  train, 
and  I'll  get  my  cousin,  Jane  Mitchen,  to  meet  you  at  Pad- 
dington  and  drive  you  to  the  church  and  I'll  see  about  a  spe- 
cial license  and  all  that,  getting  some  decent  rooms  in  Lon- 
don, if  the  Colonel  permits.  We  won't  start  with  a  house, 
as  the  regiment  may  be  moved  from  Woolwich  soon.  Also, 
I  don't  want  you  bothered  with  housekeeping.  I  think  you 
said  an  aunt  was  coming  on  a  visit  to  you.  You  had  better 
get  her  date  fixed,  so  that  when  you  leave  your  mother 
won't  be  alone.  Now,  be  a  sensible  girl,  and  say  yes,  and 
let's  have  done  with  this  shilly-shallying.  I  wouldn't  ask  you 
to  do  it  if  I  could  not  arrange  it  properly  and  have  some  of 
my  own  people  to  meet  you.  Do  trust  me :  you  know  I  love 
you,  and  I  like  to  think  you  care  a  bit  for  me — enough  to 
put  aside  ordinary  conventions! 

Even  then  Stella  was  true  to  her  original  role  of 
adventuress,  and  deliberated  gravely  as  to  whether 
the  existence  in  mere  lodgings  in  London  was  suffi- 
cient compensation  for  the  social  triumph  of  a  public 
third  or  fourth  rate  wedding  in  her  birth  town. 

It  was  clear  that  if  romance  was  to  be  a  stepping- 
stone  into  her  new  life  Stella  would  have  to  provide 
the  material  herself.  Adam  would  supply  the  com- 
mon sense  of  the  partnership. 

She  wrote  to  Adam,  telling  him  her  aunt  was  com- 
ing about  April  the  fourth,  and  that  she  would  trust 
herself  in  his  hands.  The  intervening  time  she  spent 
convincing  herself  she  was  doing  a  desperate  thing 
and  that  the  decision  had  been  a  prodigious  effort  of 
will! 


FELICITY  CROFTON  133 


CHAPTER  VI 
'Every  Straw  Shows  the  Way  the  Wind 


"ARE  you  quite  sure  it  won't  tire  you  too  much  to  dine 
out  to-night?"  demanded  Adam. 

He  was  standing  over  the  chair  where  he  had 
planted  Stella,  with  the  command  she  was  to  rest. 

Stella,  in  spite  of  her  white  face  and  over-bright 
eyes,  was  not  in  the  least  tired,  and  had  no  desire  to 
rest,  but  it  was  pleasant  to  be  fussed  over,  so  long  as 
it  did  not  prevent  an  evening  more  in  accordance  with 
the  excitement  that  throbbed  through  her  than  a  tete- 
a-tete  dinner  with  Adam  in  the  room  she  had  hardly 
yet  looked  at. 

"I'd  love  to  dine  out  somewhere,"  she  said.  "It 
wouldn't  tire  me  a  bit.  Besides,  it  is  only  right  to 
celebrate  the  event." 

Adam  bent  and  kissed  her  with  a  gust  of  sudden 
passion  that  surprised  her  into  delicious  tremours. 
She  would  have  liked  the  demonstration  to  be  coupled 
with  words  as  torrential  in  import,  but  she  had  yet  to 
learn  that  any  demonstration  from  Adam  would  take 
the  form  of  sudden  disconcerting  action  rather  than 
vocal  interpretation  of  the  same.  He  drew  himself  up 
now  abruptly  and  went  to  the  window.  The  cold 
spring  sunshine  fluttered  across  the  windy  Park  op- 
posite in  little  gusts  of  petulant  gaiety.  At  the  street 
corners  passers-by  made  wild  clutches  at  hats,  and 


134  FELICITY  CROFTON 

clung  on  to  skirts  as  the  wind  buffeted  them.  A 
passing  motor  back-fired  badly  and  caused  Adam  to 
frown.  His  observations  had  only  lasted  a  minute,  but 
that  minute  ought  to  have  been  given  to  Stella,  who 
turned  her  head  and  looked  at  him  over  the  low 
lounge  chair.  He  could  see  her  eyes,  questioning  and 
pleading  under  the  shade  of  her  hat.  He  jerked  him- 
self together. 

"Look  here,  Stella,  you  will  want  to  unpack  and 
settle  down.  I'll  go  out  and  order  dinner  somewhere. 
We'll  go  to  a  theatre  to-morrow ;  it  would  be  too  much 
for  you  to-night."  He  smiled  at  her  and  took  off 
her  hat  a  little  clumsily.  "I'm  responsible,  you 
know." 

Her  face  was  just  sufficiently  clouded  for  him  to 
appreciate  the  fact  that  she  preferred  his  presence  to 
his  absence.  He  touched  her  face  with  a  little  awed 
embarrassment. 

"You  don't  mind,  do  you?  You'd  like  to  settle 
down.  I'll  see  your  trunk's  unstrapped.  I  can  un- 
pack it  myself  when  I  come  in.  It  will  all  look  more 
home-like  when  you  have  something  about." 

Stella  sat  up  and  stroked  the  feather  in  her  hat. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  it  will."  She  gave  a  little  sigh. 
"Don't  be  long,  though." 

He  looked  at  the  clock. 

"I'll  be  back  at  four ;  and,  see  here,  you  may  unpack 
for  half  an  hour  and  then  you  are  to  lie  down." 

"You  think  I  am  made  of  china,  Adam?" 

"Yes.  Best  Worcester!"  he  laughed.  "Good-bye, 
dear." 

At  the  door  he  resisted  his  desire  to  return  and 
kiss  her,  but  once  outside  he  did  look  up  at  the  win- 
dow, and  she  was  standing  there,  half -hidden  by  the 
thin  silk  curtain,  and  she  kissed  her  hand  to  him. 

It  was  rather  splendid  having  some  one  to  stand  at 
a  window  and  kiss  their  hand  to  you!  A  confused 


FELICITY  CROFTON  135 

sense  of  companionship  with  some  tremendous  force 
exhilarated  him,  and  the  more  he  was  conscious  of  his 
exhilaration  the  more  he  was  careful  to  hide  any  ex- 
pression of  it  and  it  fed  on  concealment. 

He  met  Jim  Streeter  in  Trafalgar  Square,  who  was 
anxious  to  have  Adam's  opinion  of  two  special  gun- 
makers.  Adam  gave  it  quietly  and  concisely,  without 
undue  haste  or  trace  of  divided  attention,  but  when 
Streeter  suggested  they  should  go  to  Purdey's  and  in- 
spect guns,  he  said  with  careless  sang  froid: 

"Thanks,  but  I  must  go  and  book  a  dinner  at  the 
Savoy  for  my  wife  and  myself  to-night." 

Streeter  gasped. 

"Your— what?" 

"My  wife,"  said  Adam  seriously-/  "I  was  married 
this  morning  at  twelve-thirty.  We  are  staying  at  107 
Marble  Arch.  Do  look  us  up  one  day.  Good-bye." 

He  went  off,  denying  himself  even  the  pleasure  of 
contemplating  poor  Streeter's  complete  collapse  at  the 
astounding  news. 

Meanwhile,  Stella,  having  languidly  taken  off  her 
coat  and  furs — Adam's  gift  of  that  morning,  these 
latter — proceeded  to  make  a  more  careful  survey  of  the 
rooms.  They  were  panelled  in  oak  and  their  sombre- 
ness  only  partially  relieved  by  the  light  silk  curtains 
and  white  margined  engravings  on  the  walls.  There 
were  flowers  enough,  but  not  too  many,  and  with  the 
additions  of  a  few  good  pieces  of  embroidery  and  some 
cushions  from  Liberty's,  Stella  decided  the  sitting- 
room  would  be  all  she  could  desire.  She  opened  the 
door  leading  to  the  bedroom,  which  communicated  in 
turn  with  Adam's  dressing-room  and  the  bathroom. 
It  was  indeed  a  complete  little  suite,  not  at  all  what 
she  had  pictured  when  Adam  had  announced  his  de- 
cision in  favour  of  rooms  instead  of  a  house.  Her 
idea  of  rooms  had  been  limited  to  the  ordinary  sea- 
side lodging  affair,  and  for  five  minutes  after  reading 


136  FELICITY  CROFTON 

his  letter  the  whole  scheme  of  things  had  nearly  fallen 
to  the  ground  on  this  account.  The  bedroom  was 
well  furnished.  She  had  indeed  never  possessed  such 
a  good  wardrobe  in  her  life,  and  there  was  a  long  glass 
with  electric  light  placed  rightly  for  self -contempla- 
tion. She  pulled  open  the  big  drawers  and  cupboards 
that  were  to  hold  the  clothes  that  Adam  would  buy 
for  her.  It  seemed  almost  superfluous  to  unpack  her 
own  trunk  with  its  foolish  little  assortment. 

She  began  unpacking,  however,  and  presently  came 
on  Adam's  photograph,  and  sat  down  on  the  bed  to 
look  at  it. 

It  was  splendid  to  belong  to  him!  Other  women 
would  envy  her  her  husband.  A  little  pleased  smile 
hovered  about  her  lips  at  the  thought.  She  did  not 
like  other  women  much,  or  rather  she  liked  Adam  so 
much  that  there  was  no  room  for  extension  of  the 
affections. 

Adam  could  have  married  any  one — even  a  rich 
girl,  and  instead  he  had  married  Stella  Forrester, 
with  no  money,  no  friends  to  count,  nothing  but  her- 
self. She  kissed  the  photo,  put  it  where  she  could  see 
it,  and  finished  her  work. 

Then  she  went  into  Adam's  dressing-room.  His 
luggage  was  on  the  floor,  and  she  tried  to  open  the 
portmanteau  but  it  was  locked.  The  suitcase  was 
open,  for  the  brushes  had  been  taken  out.  She 
slipped  the  lock  and  raised  the  lid  very  carefully. 
She  wondered  if  her  photograph  was  there  under  the 
silk  dressing-gown  and  moved  it  gently.  It  was  not 
in  sight.  The  temptation  to  unpack  for  Adam  was 
not  solely  prompted  by  desire  to  save  him  trouble. 
She  really  wanted  to  be  quite  sure  he  carried  her 
photo  about  with  him.  Then  she  suddenly  shut  the 
case  and  went  back  to  her  own  room.  It  occurred 
to  her  that  Adam  would  not  like  her  to  rummage 
amongst  his  things. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  137 

Stella's  desire  to  please  Adam  was  quite  genuine. 
It  was  at  this  juncture  the  most  dominant  emotion 
she  knew.  She  was  not  only  in  love  with  her  husband, 
she  was  profoundly  grateful  to  him,  and  this  was  a 
new  emotion  to  experience. 

Adam  returned  at  the  stroke  of  four  and  scolded 
her  gently  for  not  resting,  though  he  approved  the 
little  changes  she  had  made  in  the  rooms  when  she 
pointed  them  out  to  him.  She  wore  a  white  silk  frock 
that  night,  a  lemon-coloured  sash  and  an  evening  wrap 
to  match.  The  soft  colour  enhanced  the  whiteness  of 
her  skin  and  the  darkness  of  her  hair  and  eyes.  She 
was  quite  prepared  to  face  the  chill  evening  air  with- 
out more  protection,  but  Adam  scoffed  at  the  idea  of 
such  folly,  and  wrapped  her  in  her  thickest  coat  to  the 
detriment  of  the  evening  wrap.  She  sighed  a  little 
at  the  thought  of  it,  and  then  grew  happy,  remember- 
ing she  could  now  buy  another  and  she  had  had  this 
one  for  four  years. 

They  dined  at  the  Savoy  and  sat  afterwards  in  the 
lounge,  drinking  coffee  and  watching  the  brilliant 
little  world.  Adam  did  not  talk  much;  he  was  not 
much  amused,  but  he  supposed  Stella  liked  it.  Women 
always  seem  to  like  these  things.  Presently  a  party 
of  five  people  came  in  whom  he  knew  well. 

"There  are  the  Losfords,"  he  said  to  Stella.  "We 
might  go  and  talk  to  them  if  you  like."  He  put  aside 
his  cigarette  and  stood  up. 

The  impression  of  unreality  which  had  been  slowly 
clouding  Stella's  brain  increased  rather  than  dimin- 
ished by  action.  She  followed  Adam  through  the  maze 
of  little  tables  towards  a  group  of  three  men  and  two 
women,  and  she  heard  Adam's  voice  saying  to  a  white- 
haired  but  handsome  lady,  "Lady  Losford,  may  I  in- 
troduce my  wife  to  you?"  and  caught  the  little  gasp 
of  astonishment  that  even  Lady  Losford's  perfect 
manners  could  not  quite  suppress. 


138  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Yes,"  she  heard  Adam  explaining,  "we  were  mar- 
ried quite  recently  and  quietly.  Stella  and  I  were 
unconventional  enough  to  want  our  wedding  to  our- 
selves." 

Lady  Losford's  voice,  addressing  her  directly, 
brought  Stella  nearer  actualities. 

"My  dear,  I  am  very  glad  to  know  you,  but  Adam 
has  defrauded  us  of  a  very  pretty  wedding.  I'm  sure 
it  was  more  his  doing  than  yours." 

She  made  room  for  her  by  her  side.  The  younger 
and  smarter  lady  leant  forward  and  said  softly: 

"One  must  be  thankful  Adam  has  been  sufficiently 
conventional  to  introduce  us  at  all,  Mrs.  Preston." 

Stella  realised  that  this  was  the  first  time  she  had 
been  called  by  her  new  name.  She  looked  at  her 
critically  with  half -shut  eyes  and  decided  the  speech 
was  not  meant  to  be  kindly. 

"There  does  not  seem  to  be  anything  unconventional 
in  dining  at  the  Savoy,"  she  answered  slowly.  "At 
least  half  the  world  seems  to  be  doing  the  same  thing." 
Then  she  turned  to  Lady  Losford  and  said  with  pa- 
thetic  confidence : 

"Do  you  know,  I  have  never  dined  here  before." 

Adam  talked  to  the  men.  Now  and  then  his  eyes 
roamed  to  his  wife  with  open  content.  She  was  get- 
ting on  very  well  with  his  friends,  and  they  admired 
her,  he  could  see.  Lady  Losford,  indeed,  described 
her  afterwards  as  "a  charming  child  with  something 
very  pathetic  about  her  eyes." 

At  half -past  ten  Adam  stood  up.  It  was  the  hour 
at  which  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  leave. 

"You've  had  a  tiring  day,  Stella;  we  ought  to  go 
home." 

She  was  for  the  moment  not  too  well  pleased,  but 
she  rose  obediently.  Mrs.  Sladen,  the  younger  woman, 
smiled. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Preston,  don't  create  dangerous  prece- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  139 

dents.  All  these  men  are  married.  Think  of  the 
false  impression  you  will  make  on  their  minds." 

"Precedents  were  made  to  be  broken,"  said  Stella. 
"Besides,  I  promised  Adam  we  would  go  home  early." 

Adam  wrapped  her  up  carefully,  but  he  said  nothing 
till  they  were  on  their  way  home,  when  he  remarked : 

"You  didn't  promise  to  come  away  at  any  time, 
Stella." 

She  slipped  her  hand  into  his. 

"Silly  boy;  didn't  I  promise  to  obey  you  this  morn- 
ing?" 

It  was,  however,  the  first  time  she  had  thought  of 
that. 

Adam's  face  cleared.  For  half  a  minute  he  held 
on  to  his  feelings  and  then  he  put  his  arms  round  her 
and  pulled  her  nearer  him — so  close  she  could  hear 
the  beating  of  his  heart.  There  was  a  scent  of  ver- 
bena in  her  hair  and  in  her  dress  that  mounted  to 
his  head.  This  thing  that  he  had  done  was  really 
of  tremendous  importance  after  all. 


II 

Felicity  lay  back  in  a  long  chair  in  the  little  sunny 
loggia  of  the  Hotel  de  Palmer,  which  crowned  one  of 
the  little  hills  to  the  northwest  of  Ajaccio.  The  town 
itself  straggled  in  a  half-hearted  way  up  to  the  hotel, 
just  clutching  on  to  it  through  the  medium  of  scat- 
tered villas  and  stray  hotels,  as  if  but  languidly  inter- 
ested in  establishing  any  connection  between  itself 
and  the  immense  row  of  gilded  letters,  that  with  this 
disproportionate  glitter  called  attention  to  the  thin 
yellow  building. 

Felicity  liked  the  remoteness  of  the  place;  liked 
looking  down  on  the  white  town  below,  at  the  blue 
green  waters  of  the  beautiful  bay,  at  the  hillside  rich 


140  FELICITY  CROFTON 

in  vegetation.  She  liked  being  out  of  the  ordinary 
little  throng  of  visitors,  in  close  touch  with  the  hills 
themselves,  so  that  the  far-off  heights,  where  snow 
still  glittered,  seemed  acceptable.  She  would  plan  ex- 
peditions up  there,  but  though  she  had  now  been  here 
five  weeks,  she  had  not  done  much  more  than  plan. 
After  all,  it  was  very  pleasant  here  in  the  sunny  log- 
gia. On  wet  days  she  had  her  letters,  her  books,  and 
the  native  embroidery  she  was  doing  for  Veronica's 
boy.  On  fine  days  without  any  particular  effort,  she 
would  wander  out  on  the  hillside  and  watch  the  little 
black  and  white  lambs,  leaping  about  with  their  silky 
mothers,  or  gossip  with  the  old  priest  who  shepherded 
a  still  wider  flock  here  on  the  borders  of  the  Maguir. 
She  seldom  went  down  to  Ajaccio  itself.  It  was  no 
particular  pleasure  to  her  to  drive  up,  and  she  had 
no  inclination  to  walk,  even  by  the  lemon  and  orange 
shaded  roads. 

When  she  and  Veronica  had  been  here  five  winters 
ago,  it  had  been  Veronica  who  had  shirked  climbing 
either  of  the  possible  heights  above  them,  and  Felicity 
had  promised  herself  that  this  time  she  would  make 
a  climb,  and  yet  she  had  done  nothing  through  all 
these  pleasant  peaceful  days  but  drift  contently.  It 
had  taken  her  until  now  really  to  readjust  her  life 
after  the  break  of  Veronica's  marriage. 

That  other  journey  of  hers,  to  the  Canaries,  had 
not  been  a  conspicuous  success.  She  had  missed  Ve- 
ronica more  in  new  surroundings  than  in  the  old 
ones  of  which  Veronica  had  avowedly  seen  enough. 
That  shorter  expedition  to  Norway  with  Adam  in 
the  autumn  had  been,  on  the  contrary,  a  great  success. 
It  was  that  which  had  really  bridged  over  the  restless 
sense  of  isolation  and  carried  her  to  the  good  sense  of 
freedom,  on  which  she  now  luxuriated.  Next  leave 
they  were  perhaps  going  to  Ireland  together,  salmon 
fishing.  She  had  never  caught  a  salmon  and  Adam 


FELICITY  CROFTON  141. 

declared  life  was  incomplete  without  the  experience. 
Nothing  had  been  settled.  The  idea  had  but  been 
mooted. 

Meanwhile  Veronica  was  happy,  content  and  well 
looked  after.  It  was  an  almost  ceaseless  wonder  how 
Felicity's  responsibilities  with  regard  to  Veronica  had 
slipped  from  her.  She  had  indeed  never  fully  realised 
how  big  a  part  the  charge  of  her  child  had  played  in 
her  life  till  she  stood  free  from  it.  To  see  Veronica 
now  was  to  share  her  happiness,  to  see  the  fruition 
of  promises,  the  death  of  little  fears,  and  to  know 
for  a  certainty  that  her  child  was,  humanly  speaking, 
in  hands  that  could  hold  her  safe  and  insure  her  hap- 
piness in  a  measure  for  which  Felicity  could  only  feel 
a  passionate  unspoken  gratitude.  She  would  not  stay 
with  them  for' any  length  of  time  at  first;  indeed, 
Veronica  complained  of  the  shortness  of  her  visits,  but 
Dominic  insisted  Madre  was  not  to  be  pressed.  She 
was  to  feel  free  to  come  and  go  as  she  would.  That 
was  his  ruling  and  Veronica  accepted  it. 

Adam  had  had  hopes  his  regiment  would  move  to 
Ireland,  in  which  case  she  had  vague  dreams  of  taking 
a  house  there  for  the  season,  but  Woolwich,  instead  of 
Ireland,  was  the  fate  of  The  Royal  Sphinxs,  and  later 
on  Hampstead  and  the  Bessingtons  would  be  her  so- 
lution if  she  wanted  to  be  in  touch  with  Adam. 

She  had  almost  decided  to  give  up  this  solitary  life 
of  hers  and  take  one  or  other  of  her  many  god-daugh- 
ters about  with  her,  but  she  knew  she  was  not  yet 
tired  of  her  complete  freedom  and  at  the  back  of  her 
mind  there  lurked  an  incomplete  idea  that  she  owed 
something  to  Stella  Forrester,  though  what  the  obliga- 
tion was  she  had  no  wish  to  discover.  In  the  face  ofj 
Mark's  odd  words  to  her  on  the  evening  of  Veronica's 
wedding  two  years  ago,  her  wisest  course  was  to 
forget  Stella's  existence  if  she  and  Adam  were  to  be 
kept  apart.  She  smiled  a  little  as  she  thought  of  it. 


142  FELICITY  CROFTON 

Adam  wasn't  really  likely  to  lose  his  head  now.  There 
was  an  incongruity  in  contemplating  the  two  that  bor- 
dered on  the  humorous.  Poor  dear  Mark!  All  the 
same  Stella  was  an  odd  girl,  and  it  was  no  wonder 
he  was  anxious  about  her. 

At  this  point  her  meditations  were  broken  off 
by  the  entrance  of  Luigi,  the  waiter,  with  her  let- 
ters. 

There  was  a  fair  pile.  One  from  Veronica,  which 
she  read  first,  and  which  contained  a  great  deal  of 
news  about  her  small  son  and  the  garden,  but  practi- 
cally nothing  about  Dominic  except  that  he  was  well. 
Then  half  a  dozen  letters  from  friends  and  proteges, 
some  two  or  three  business  ones — and  one  from  Adam. 
She  kept  this  till  last,  opened  the  business  ones  first, 
then  the  personal  letters.  The  second  of  them  was 
to  announce  the  engagement  of  Mary  Fuller  with 
Jim  Streeter,  a  most  eminently  satisfactory  arrange- 
ment. After  expanding  two  sheets  over  her  happiness 
and  heartfelt  gratitude  to  Madre  for  some  smoothing 
of  their  path,  Mary  proceeded  to  general  news,  and 
ended  with  this: 


By  the  way,  why  did  you  never  tell  us  of  Adam  Preston's 
marriage?  Jim  met  him  in  Trafalgar  Square  the  day  before 
yesterday  and  he  calmly  announced  he  was  married  and 
living  at  107  Marble  Arch  and  asked  Jim  to  call.  I  said  it 
must  be  a  hoax,  but  Jim  is  dead  certain  it  isn't  and  we  are 
going  round  to  see  this  afternoon. 


The  letter  fluttered  from  Felicity's  hands,  and  she 
leant  back  in  her  chair  with  shut  eyes,  for  the  world 
seemed  to  be  turning  round  inexplicably.  ...  Of 
course  it  was  a  hoax  ...  on  some  one's  part!  .  .  . 
Then  suddenly  she  sat  up,  brushing  the  letters  right 
and  left  in  haste.  There  was  one  from  Adam  some- 
where! She  found  it  and  tore  it  open. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  143 

107  Marble  Arch,  April  the  Fourth. 
My  dear  Madre: 

It  will  be  a  bit  of  a  surprise  to  you  to  hear  I  am  married. 
I  married  Stella  Forrester  at  St.  Mary's,  Paddington,  yes- 
terday. 

Felicity's  eyes  flew  to  the  date.  It  was  written  be- 
fore Mary's  letter,  but  Corsican  posts  were  uncertain 
at  best. 

She  came  up  to  Paddington  and  my  cousin,  Jane  Mitchen, 
met  her  and  brought  her  to  the  church  and  we  were  mar- 
ried. Her  mother  had  made  such  absurd  difficulties  that 
Stella  was  getting  quite  ill  and  I  couldn't  have  that.  You 
can  have  all  other  particulars  when  we  meet.  You  know 
I  am  no  good  at  letters.  I  had  half  a  mind  to  write  to  you 
about  it,  but  I  have  always  held  the  belief  a  man's  marriage 
concerns  no  one  but  himself,  and  if  he  wants  advice  over  it 
it  means  he  isn't  sure  of  his  own  mind — beside  which  there 
was  no  real  point  in  worrying  you  when  you  are  having  a 
good  time.  If  you  are  writing  to  Mark  you  might  say  what 
awful  rot  his  objections  are,  unless  he  objects  to  me  per- 
sonally. The  C.  O.  wasn't  too  well  pleased,  but  I  explained 
the  circumstances  and  in  the  end  he  was  decent,  and  Mrs. 
C.  O.  will  call.  Hope  you  are  fit  and  have  done  the  climb 
you  spoke  of.  Do  you  remember  climbing  up  Monckton 
Farley  and  that  boulder  ?  What  a  jolly  crash  it  went ! 

Yours  ever, 

ADAM. 

Felicity  let  the  letter  fall  on  her  lap  and  again  leant 
back. 

"It  was  not  worth  worrying  you  about  it." 
She  could  hardly  have  supposed  words  could  hurt 
so  much.    Her  stricken  mind  groped  vaguely  for  some 
point  in  her  own  behaviour  on  which  she  could  lay 
the  blame  for  that  amazing  statement  of  his. 
.     He  had  just  tried  to  be  considerate  for  her.     She 
understood  as  much,  and  gave  him  credit  for  it,  but 
what  had  she  done,  or  not  done,  to  merit  such  bitter 
consideration  ?    How  had  she  failed  him,  that  at  such 


144  FELICITY  CROFTON 

a  crisis  in  his  life  he  had  left  her  out  of  his  reckoning 
— 'for  fear  of  worrying  her?  It  was  a  crisis!  She 
felt  it  in  every  fibre  of  her  being,  felt  a  nameless  ter- 
ror, a  shadow  of  dark  wings  hanging  over  the  future. 
The  thought  of  Stella  roused  a  fierce  restlessness  in 
her,  urged  her  to  action  and  movement! 

But  what  action  could  be  effectual  since  Adam  was 
married ! 

And  the  marriage  was  foredoomed  to  failure,  as 
Veronica  was  predestined  for  happiness ! 

Was  even  Stella,  let  alone  Adam,  to  go  through  the 
dark  waters  she  had  passed  through?  Surely  there 
must  be  some  way  to  save  them,  although  she  had 
failed  them  at  the  outset  and  that  in  spite  of  warning. 

She  found  the  point  of  accusation  against  herself  at 
last.  It  lay  in  her  selfish  indolence,  that  fancied,  once 
free  from  the  dear  responsibility  of  her  daughter,  she 
was  at  liberty  to  lie  about  with  empty  mind  and  hands 
in  a  little  sunny  loggia  here  in  the  enchanted  isle, 
while  the  son  of  her  adoption  had  no  one  but  her  to 
turn  to  in  the  most  momentous  decision  of  his  life. 
He  was  so  young,  so  very  young,  in  his  dear,  arrogant 
independence,  and  she  loved  him  the  more  for  it.  So 
young  in  that  immature  consideration  for  her  which 
hurt  so  excessively  that  it  would  need  all  her  courage 
properly  to  refute  it  to  him,  face  to  face,  with  a  smile 
on  her  lips. 

And  he  had  harnessed  himself  for  all  his  young 
beautiful  life  to — danger!  She  made  no  compromise 
with  her  instinct.  Dragged  up  no  battery  of  ordinary 
common  sense  against  intuitive  knowledge.  Stella 
Forrester  (for  some  reason)  married  to  Adam  spelt 
danger!  Mark  had  known  it,  and  Mark,  like  herself, 
loved  Adam.  He  had  warned  her  and  she  had  a  little 
contemptuously  put  his  warning  on  one  side.  The 
responsibility  was  hers! 

Her  inaction  vanished  with  her  languid  content. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  145 

She  forgot  the  fatigue  that  had  really  kept  her  pris- 
oner so  long.  It  was  quite  plain  to  her  what  she  must 
do.  She  must  return  to  England.  She  must  be  in 
touch  with  them.  She  must  be  friends  with  Stella. 
If  need  arose,  Stella  would  never  refrain  from  telling 
her  of  it  for  fear  of  worrying  her;  she  felt  a  little 
ironical  amusement  at  the  idea.  That  was  all  that  re- 
mained for  her  to  do — and  to  write  to  Mark.  But 
she  would  not  write  to-day. 

She  went  inside  to  find  a  timetable. 

There  were  no  steamers  starting  till  Wednesday, 
and  this  was  Monday.  She  would  book  a  passage  and 
wire  for  a  seat  in  the  Genoa  express  and  go  straight 
to  London. 

To  the  Westminster  Palace  Hotel  ? — or  should  it  be 
to  Hampstead? 

The  thought — not  of  Veronica,  but  of  Dominic  and 
his  quiet  common  sense — was  steadying.  Yes,  she 
would  go  to  them! 

These  matters  seen  to,  she  had  nothing  left  to  do 
but  wander  out  into  the  town  and  loiter  on  the  ter- 
race before  the  hotel.  She  did  not  wish  to  toil  down 
to  the  shores  of  the  bay.  Her  eyes  went  wistfully  to 
the  white-crowned  mountains  she  had  never  scaled. 

Why  should  she  not  make  the  expedition,  after  all! 

There  was  to-morrow.  She  was  not  at  all  tired 
now.  She  had  plenty  of  energy  driving  her  to  action. 
She  had  had  plenty  of  rest.  The  doctor  had  said  that 
was  all  she  needed.  She  brushed  that  thought  quickly 
away.  Even  to  herself  she  hated  confessing  she  had 
consulted  a  doctor.  With  it  she  brushed  aside  also 
the  little  warnings  he  had  given  her. 

She  meant  to  say  good-bye  to  being  lazy.  It  was 
almost  as  bad  as  admitting  she  was  growing  old,  which 
was  palpably  absurd.  And  she  very  much  wanted  to 
tell  Adam  she  had  done  the  climb! 


146  FELICITY  CROFTON 


in 

Adam  and  Stella  were  at  breakfast,  or  rather,  Adam 
was  halfway  through  his,  and  Stella,  in  a  becoming 
negligee  was  about  to  commence  hers.  There  were 
some  letters  for  her  beside  her  plate,  and  she  was  won- 
dering whether  they  were  placed  there  by  the  maid  or 
Adam,  and,  if  it  be  Adam,  whether  he  had  noticed 
that  there  was  one  from  Mark,  redirected  from  the 
Pieceminster  postoffi.ce.  Stella  had  taken  the  precau- 
tion to  have  her  letters  readdressed  straight  from  there, 
as  Mrs.  Forrester  had  a  trick  of  treating  certain  letters 
as  "family  property." 

Stella  did  not  wish  to  read  Mark's  letter  till  Adam 
was  gone.  She  might  possibly  not  wish  to  say  she  had 
heard  from  him  even.  She  slipped  the  letter  under 
a  second,  which  was  from  her  mother,  the  first  since 
the  marriage,  for,  though  Adam  had  punctually  and 
exactly  informed  Mrs.  Forrester  of  the  same,  he  had 
written  from  his  club,  and  had  not  given  her  their 
address,  thinking  that  if  she  meant  to  make  a  fuss,  it 
would  be  better  for  the  letter  to  reach  him  at  the  club, 
or  at  his  mess.  However,  such  a  simple  solution  had 
not  occurred  to  Mrs.  Forrester,  who  spent  four  days 
bewailing  the  fact  that  she  did  not  know  where  to 
write  to  the  culprits,  and  rereading  to  her  sister  first 
Adams'  quiet,  business-like  account,  and  then  Stella's 
original  note  stating  the  fact  of  her  departure  in  terms 
of  reproach  and  with  a  heartlessness  that  caused  Mrs. 
Forrester  to  weep  on  each  perusal.  At  last,  at  Adam's 
instigation,  Stella  wrote  again  and  told  of  her  own 
comfort  and  unimaginable  happiness  and  gave  their 
address.  This  was  Mrs.  Forrester's  answer. 

If  she  were  only  quite  sure  Adam  had  not  seen  the 
letters  she  would  have  preferred  to  reserve  this  also, 
but  there  it  lay  on  the  top,  with  the  postmark  and  the 


FELICITY  CROFTON  147 

thin,  pointed  writing,  and  since  Adam  had  just  moved 
the  toast-rack,  she  could  not  believe  he  would  not  have 
noticed  it  and  guessed. 

"Anything  yet  from  your  mother?"  he  asked  quite 
naturally,  as  she  reshuffled  the  letters  again. 

Whereupon  she  opened  it,  read  it  with  half  her  at- 
tention. The  other  half  being  occupied  in  concocting 
excuses  in  case  Adam  wanted  to  see  it  and  it  proved 
unsuitable  for  his  eyes. 

Such  an  idea,  however,  did  not  enter  into  Adam's 
head,  and  when  Stella  eventually  handed  him  the  in- 
noculated  letter  he  took  it  reluctantly  and  would  have 
preferred  her  to  give  him  an  abbreviated  version  of  it. 
It  was  inconsequent,  a  little  hysterical  and  wholly 
foolish,  full  of  reiterated  wonders  as  to  what  Mark 
would  say,  and  ended  by  sending  love  to  both  and 
hoping  that  Adam  would  remember  to  impress  on 
Mark  that  she  had  done  nothing  to  help  on  the  mar- 
riage which  she  hoped  might  be  a  success.  Then  there 
was  a  long  p.  s.,  asking  Stella  to  keep  her  eyes  open 
for  sales,  and  a  list  of  commissions  she  would  like 
executed  if  Stella  could  get  any  of  them  as  bargains. 

Adam  read  the  first  and  last  sentence,  omitted  the 
postscript,  and  handed  it  back. 

"I  can't  think  why  you  are  all  so  afraid  of  poor 
old  Mark,"  he  said.  "He  isn't  going  to  call  me  out 
for  marrying  his  sister,  and  he  ought  to  be  jolly  glad 
I've  taken  the  responsibility  of  her  off  his  shoulders!" 

He  smiled  across  at  Stella  good-humouredly,  but 
she  regarded  him  with  suddenly  nervous  eyes  and  then 
dropped  her  gaze  to  her  plate  and  to  the  letter  from 
Mark,  which  she  had  now  edged  off  the  table  into  her 
lap. 

"I  don't  know  why  you  should  think  me  such  a  re- 
sponsibility," she  began  plaintively.  "I — I  don't  mean 
to  be." 

"You  little  goose!    Of  course  a  wife's  a  responsi- 


148  FELICITY  CROFTON 

bility!  Jolly  pleasant  one,  too!  Mark  had  better  get 
one  of  his  own  if  he's  in  such  a  tear  at  losing  you. 
Pass  the  marmalade,  dear." 

She  could  not  avoid  standing  up  when  he  moved  to 
go,  and  was  on  thorns  lest  he  should  see  the  letter, 
which  had  now  slipped  from  her  lap  to  the  floor.  But 
Adam  saw  nothing.  He  was  debating  whether  he  had 
time  to  buy  a  new  pair  of  gloves  on  his  way  to  Wool- 
wich. 

"Look  here,  Stella,  I  can't  get  home  to  tea  to-day," 
he  said  as  he  was  starting,  "so  amuse  yourself  nicely." 

She  looked  dismayed. 

"Oh,  Adam!" 

"Even  soldiers  have  work  to  do." 

"At  four  in  the  afternoon?" 

"Sometimes.  You'll  be  all  right.  Go  and  buy 
things.  Have  you  enough  money?" 

Stella,  who  with  all  her  faults  was  not  extravagant, 
said  she  had  plenty. 

"We  ought  to  hear  something  from  Madre  soon," 
Adam  remarked  as  he  went  out.  "It's  a  pity  she  is 
abroad  all  this  time.  She  would  have  looked  after  you 
well." 

"You  are  very  fond  of  her,  I  suppose?"  Stella  ques- 
tioned, following  him  with  her  eyes. 

"She's  a  rattling  good  sort.  One  of  the  best! 
Good-bye,  old  girl." 

He  was  gone  at  last  and  Stella  was  free  to  read  her 
brother's  letter,  though  she  did  not  hurry  over  start- 
ing it.  She  was  dimly  apprehensive ;  Mark  so  seldom 
wrote  to  her,  and  though  she  knew  her  mother  would 
have  mentioned  Adam's  first  visit  to  Pieceminster 
long  ago,  she  herself  in  the  solitary  letter  she  had 
written  him  since,  had  been  careful  to  omit  any  men- 
tion of  Adam,  though  when  she  had  told  Adam  she 
had  written,  and  left  him  to  draw  his  own  conclusions, 
Adam  had  insisted  on  cabling  the  news  of  their  mar- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  149 

riage  to  Mark.  But  there  had  been  no  cable  back, 
and  it  would  be  three  weeks  more  before  an  answer 
would  reach  them  by  post. 

Still,  after  all,  Mark's  approval  or  disapproval  could 
not  matter  now.  She  was  married  and,  taking  refuge 
in  that  thought,  she  at  last  opened  the  letter. 

Tirawoo,  India. 
Dear  Stella: 

"I  gather  from  Mother's  letter  that  Adam  Preston  has 
been  down  to  Pieceminster  and  of  course  came  to  see  you. 
He  could  not  do  less  if  he  were  there  on  business,  but  I 
hope  you  will  remember  what  I  said  in  London.  Don't 
think  me  a  brute,  my  dear  girl,  but  apart  from  what  I  know 
of  both  your  characters — and  they  aren't  a  bit  suited  to  each 
other — I  couldn't  let  you  marry  my  best  friend  unless  you 
prepared  to  be  absolutely  frank  with  him.  Personally  I 
think  you  should  be  with  any  one,  but  in  any  other  case  you 
could  decide  for  yourself.  Here  you  can't.  However,  I  hope 
I  am  only  giving  you  an  unnecessary  warning  and  disagree- 
able advice,  for  Adam  isn't  really  your  sort  of  man  and  you 
may  not  care  two  straws  about  him.  I  should  like  you  to 
marry.  I  think  you  would  be  happier  so,  and  I  don't  think 
now  there  is  the  slightest  reason  against  it  or  ever  would 
be.  I'm  awfully  sorry  to  have  to  appear  such  a  bugbear,  but 
I  am  really  thinking  as  much  of  your  chance  of  happiness 
as  of  Adam's.  I've  been  up  country  shooting  and  found 
your  letter  and  Mother's  waiting  me.  I  wonder  if  Madre  is 
back  in  England  yet.  Don't  forget  if  ever  you  want  help 
or  are  in  doubt  what  to  do,  she's  the  person  to  go  to. 

.Yours  ever, 

MARK. 


Stella  crumpled  the  letter  in  her  hands  and  gazed 
at  the  fire  with  a  sullen  frown  on  her  face.  She  hated 
Mark  for  the  moment,  and  she  hated  Mrs.  Crofton, 
that  both  Mark  and  Adam  were  always  trying  to 
drag  her  into  her  life." 

"Do  not  care  two  straws  for  Adam !" 

That  was  all  Mark  knew!  She  gave  a  scornful  little 
laugh.  Why,  she  adored  every  inch  of  his  big  body! 


1 50  FELICITY  CROFTON 

He  was  hers,  hers,  hers,  no  one,  man  or  woman,  should 
interfere  between  them.  For  a  furious  moment  her 
mind  struggled  with  a  chaotic  blind  rage,  from  which 
she  dragged  herself  with  difficulty. 

What  right  had  Mark  to  talk  about  Adam  being  his 
best  friend?  She  was  his  wife  and  that  was  better 
than  a  hundred  best  friends.  He  wanted  no  best 
friends — he  had  her! 

As  to  telling  him  all  those  old  stories  and  remem- 
bering old  dangers,  that  was  sheer  stupidity.  Even 
their  precious  Mrs.  Crofton  had  said  it  was  a  mistake, 
from  the  little  she  knew.  There  was  nothing  what- 
ever to  consult  Mrs.  Crofton  about.  She  wanted  no- 
body interfering.  Why,  when  she  had  at  last  got 
something  out  of  life,  should  she  risk  losing  it  to 
satisfy  Mark's  ridiculous  notions?  Fancy  writing  all 
that!  He  had  said  it  all  before,  too — every  word  of 
it! 

She  got  some  sharp  satisfaction  from  dropping  his 
letter  into  the  fire  and  watching  it  curl  and  blacken 
and  crumble  to  nothing. 

Then  she  rose,  rang  the  bell  to  get  breakfast  cleared, 
and  decided  she  would  go  out  shopping. 

She  had  still  hosts  of  things  to  buy  and  plenty  of 
money  to  buy  with.  It  never  troubled  her  in  the 
least  that  Adam  had  to  provide  her  trousseau.  She 
was  perfectly  prepared  to  accept  all  the  good  things 
he  heaped  upon  her.  She  bought  carefully  and  she 
enjoyed  getting  just  what  she  wanted  and  taking  her 
time  over  it.  She  liked  riding  in  taxis,  liked  studying 
shop  windows,  spending  a  whole  morning  buying 
shoes  where  it  pleased  her  and  an  afternoon  buying 
hosiery  to  match.  So  far  time  had  not  hung  heavy 
on  her  hands  and  there  was  always  Adam's  return  at 
four  o'clock  to  look  forward  to.  She  preferred  the 
evenings  when  they  went  out  together.  The  second 
glances  that  women  and  even  men  cast  at  him  were 


honey  to  her,  but  she  had  learnt  to  simulate  content 
when  he  decreed  an  evening  at  home. 

To-day  she  was  going  to  buy  gloves  and  be  fitted. 
She  would  lunch  at  Harrod's.  Stella  had  no  shopping 
knowledge  beyond  the  big  emporiums  and  well-adver- 
tised firms  and  Bond  Street  and  similar  expensive  re- 
gions still  frightened  her  a  little  with  their  exclusive 
looking  windows  and  fine  ladies  who  met  one,  not 
as  an  equal,  but  with  an  air  of  social  superiority.  But 
since  she  knew  what  she  wanted  and  what  was  appro- 
priate to  the  rather  bizarre  style  she  affected,  she 
shopped  well  and  wisely,  and  Adam,  though  he  had 
some  qualms  at  her  daring,  could  not  but  see  she  knew 
what  suited  her. 

It  was  not  till  she  was  returning  home  and  was 
nearly  at  her  own  doorstep  that  any  shadow  of  discon- 
tent crossed  her  mind.  There  was  a  smart  car  wait- 
ing outside  the  house  and  two  ladies  were  on  the  door- 
step. For  a  moment  she  was  seized  with  panic  lest 
they  should  be  callers  for  her.  She  did  not  wish  to 
receive  callers  in  her  outdoor  clothes.  She  walked  on, 
therefore,  to  the  corner  of  the  street,  and  glancing 
round  saw  the  ladies  had  been  admitted.  They  were, 
therefore,  for  "the  drawing-room  floor,"  not  for  her. 
With  some  unreason  she  now  wished  they  had  been 
for  her.  The  idea  of  her  solitary  room  struck  her 
as  forlorn,  and  she  retraced  her  steps  slowly.  If  Adam 
wouldn't  be  in  and  there  were  no  callers  it  would  not 
be  worth  putting  on  her  new  afternoon  frock. 

They  had  had  no  callers  at  all  yet  but  the  Streeters, 
and  she  had  been  out  then.  She  began  wondering  if 
any  one  would  ever  call.  Lady  Los  ford  had  said  she 
would,  but  had  since  written  to  say  she  had  gone  down 
to  Wiltshire  to  the  Massendens  for  a  week. 

Suppose  Adam  got  into  a  habit  of  staying  away  to 
tea? 

Her  quickly  responsive  mind  was  enmeshed  instantly 


152  FELICITY  CROFTON 

in  a  sense  of  isolation  and  self-pity.  She  had  been 
told  once  she  should  never  live  alone,  or  allow  herself 
to  get  depressed.  This  recollection  awoke  a  dim  sense 
of  uneasy  fear,  which  she  might  easily  have  argued 
away,  but  didn't.  She  took  it  with  her  into  the  quiet 
hall  and  involuntarily  looked  over  her  shoulder  as  she 
closed  the  door,  as  if  aware  some  one  or  something 
had  entered  with  her.  There  was  a  slightly  hunted 
look  in  her  eyes  as  she  entered  the  sitting-room. 

There  peacefully  sitting  before  the  fire  waiting  for 
her  was  Mrs.  Crofton. 

Stella  gave  a  little  gasp  of  amazement  and  the 
hunted  look  vanished.  In  spite  of  her  momentary  an- 
ger against  Mrs.  Crofton  that  morning  she  was  glad 
and  strangely  relieved  to  see  her.  Some  burden  of 
responsibility  seemed  lifted  from  her  shoulders.  It 
never  for  an  instant  occurred  to  her  that  Mrs.  Crofton 
might  not  be  too  well  pleased  at  Adam's  marriage. 
Stella  was  far  too  interested  in  herself  to  worry  about 
other  people's  opinion  of  her.  The  little  shy,  embar- 
rassed air  with  which  she  greeted  her  visitor  was  only 
her  natural  attitude  towards  the  unexpected,  but  it 
became  her  well. 

Felicity  felt  a  sudden  throb  of  compunction  for  her 
own  attitude,  which,  if  not  hostile,  had  been  at  least 
critical.  Stella  had  undoubtedly  improved  by  mar- 
riage. She  was  well  dressed  and  the  appealing  look 
in  her  eyes  was  no  longer  entirely  mournful,  but  rather 
challenging.  Felicity's  own  kind  eyes  took  in  the 
change  instantly,  and  she  drew  Stella  to  her  and  kissed 
her,  a  practice  to  which  she  was  chary. 

"I'm  all  alone  to-day,"  said  Stella,  as  she  rang  for 
tea.  "Adam  won't  be  back  till  late.  He'll  be  so  vexed 
at  missing  you.  We  thought  you  were  still  in  Cor- 
sica." 

"So  I  was  three  days  ago.  I  arrived  last  night. 
I — I  had  to  come — home.  Do  you  know,  Adam's  let- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  153 

ter  was  one  of  the  biggest  surprises  I  have  ever  had 
in  my  life." 

"It  seems  to  have  surprised  every  one.  Why  should 
all  Adam's  friends  imagine  he  was  never  to  marry?" 
There  was  resentment  in  her  voice. 

"We  didn't  think  that.  We  were  only  surprised  he 
did  not  tell  us  before."  It  was  easier  to  speak  in  the 
collective.  Felicity  knew  she  would  make  no  advance 
with  Stella  by  claiming  special  rights  of  friendship 
with  Adam.  She  was  herself  relieved  that  he  was  not 
here.  It  was  easier  seeing  Stella  first. 

Tea  appeared  and  Stella  devoted  herself  to  her 
duties  as  hostess.  Her  first  sense  of  immeasurable 
relief  was  twisted  up  now  with  a  little  thread  of  an- 
tagonism. If  Felicity  had  questioned  her  as  to  her 
marriage  she  would  have  bristled  with  hostility,  but 
because  she  asked  no  questions  and  appeared  to  take 
it  all  as  an  unexpected  but  quite  ordinary  proceeding, 
Stella  chose  to  feel  aggrieved.  Felicity  asked  how 
Adam  was,  remarked  how  much  more  comfortable  it 
must  be  for  him  here  than  in  solitary  rooms,  or  at 
Woolwich,  and  she  conveyed  the  impression  that  the 
fact  that  there  had  been  no  callers  only  showed  tact 
and  consideration  on  the  part  of  others. 

"I  consider  myself  an  exception  and  not  bound  to 
exercise  tact,"  she  admitted  gaily.  In  fact,  she  dis- 
played the  guile  of  the  serpent  and  the  proverbial  gen- 
tleness of  the  dove  and  an  exceeding  tact  that  went  far 
towards  again  undoing  that  twisted  thread  of  antag- 
onism in  Stella's  attitude  towards  her. 

"I  expect  you'll  be  tremendously  happy,"  was  the 
most  personal  remark  she  made,  and  Stella  missed  the 
wistful  look  in  her  eyes  that  accompanied  it,  and  said 
she  was  tremendously  happy. 

"Like  Veronica  and  Dominic.  The  two  pair  of  you 
should  be  a  stand-off  against  the  nonsense  that's  talked 
of  marriage  nowadays.  By  the  way,  Veronica  would 


154  FELICITY  CROFTON 

have  come  with  me  to-day  but  Christopher  has  a  cold 
so  she  couldn't." 

"Hasn't  she  a  nurse?"  asked  Stella  idly,  not  because 
she  was  interested  in  Veronica's  boy's  cold,  for  she 
did  not  like  children,  but  for  something  to  say. 

"A  splendid  one !  Still  babies,  you  know,  require  a 
proportionate  number  of  people  to  look  after  them  in 
exact  inverse  ratio  of  their  age  and  position  in  the 
family  circle,  as  first,  second  or  third  arrival." 

Stella  said  she  would  like  to  see  Veronica. 

At  five  o'clock  Felicity  rose  to  leave.  It  was  no 
use  to  wait  for  Adam. 

Moreover,  she  felt  a  strong  desire  to  meet  him 
alone  first.  She  would  have  planned  nothing  to  this 
end,  but  she  would  welcome  the  chance  that  made  it 
possible. 

All  the  way  back  to  Hampstead  she  struggled  to 
set  her  impressions  in  order  and  find  the  balance  that 
would  incontestably  allay  her  odd  sense  of  panic 
which  she  told  herself  now  must  spring  from  Mark's 
over-fastidious  sense  of  obligation  towards  his  friend. 

Christopher  Dominic  was  being  put  to  bed  when  she 
got  back.  His  cold  was  better  and  it  was  a  besprinkled 
nurse  and  mother  that  lifted  a  frisky  merman  out  of 
his  bath.  The  merman  struggled  to  escape  to  Madre — • 
somehow  no  one  had  thought  of  imposing  the  title  of 
Granny  on  Felicity — who  was  leaning  against  the 
table,  watching  the  group  in  the  firelight  and  had  done 
nothing  to  attract  Master  Christopher.  She  only 
laughed  when  the  wet  little  form  strained  towards 
her  and  put  herself  within  easier  range  of  him. 

"Business  first,  my  dear  Christopher,"  she  said  with 
mock  solemnity.  "Little  mermen  always  get  dry  be- 
fore they  play!" 

She  stood  looking  down  at  him  with  thoughtful 
eyes,  but  the  baby  apparently  found  a  smile  lurking  in 
their  depth,  for  he  laughed  and  continued  to  hold  out 


FELICITY  CROFTON  155 

his  hands  to  her,  and  having  obtained  a  finger  held  it 
tightly.  It  was  an  odd  fact  with  Madre  that  she  never 
had  to  talk  or  exert  herself  to  attract  the  attention  of 
children.  She  was  indeed  no  adept  at  baby  talk,  but 
children  of  all  ages  would  behave  as  Christopher  now 
did,  demanding  little  beyond  contact  with  her  and  the 
attention  of  her  smiling  eyes. 

It  was  Veronica  who  carried  her  son  to  bed,  but 
though  he  cuddled  his  mother  with  heartwhole  affec- 
tion, his  bright  eyes  looked  over  her  shoulder  towards 
Madre  as  if  he  shared  with  her  some  secret  about  his 
own  appreciation  of  his  pretty  mother. 

"Well?"  demanded  Veronica,  when  they  were  both 
seated  again  in  the  drawing  room.  "What  was  Stella 
like  and  how  are  they?" 

"I  didn't  see  Adam.  They  have  charming  rooms. 
Stella  looks  well  and  quite  as  happy  as  she  should 
look.  She  was  out  when  I  arrived,  so  I  waited.  She 
will  be  very  pleased  to  see  you." 

"Yes,  we'll  consider  that  all  said.  Let  us  get  to  the 
gist  of  the  matter." 

"Haven't  you  got  it?    Adam  wasn't  there." 

"Nonsense,  you  silly  little  Madre!  Don't  pretend. 
Goon?"* 

"I  am  wondering  if  Mark  has  a  kink  in  his  mind. 
Seriously,  Veronica,  Stella  is  improved." 

"Already?"  with  a  faint  lift  of  her  brows. 

"It's  the  certainty  of  the  change;  the  getting  what 
she  wanted,"  returned  Felicity  meditatively.  "Yes,  I 
think  that's  it — she  has  permanently  changed  her  sur- 
roundings and  she  may  permanently  change  her  out- 
look, if  her  eyes  keep  as  now." 

"Her  eyes?" 

"They  are  not  so  pathetic.  They  are  even  a  little 
defiant.  She  has  instinctive  taste.  The  room  looked 
charming,  and  yet  she  has  probably  never  had  things 


156  FELICITY  CROFTON 

as  she  liked  before.  Now  she  can — Adam  won't  inter- 
fere!" 

"I'll  call  to-morrow,"  said  Veronica  virtuously. 

"Do.  She  won't  be  interested  in  Christopher,  let 
me  remind  you." 

"I  shouldn't  think  of  wasting  intelligent  conver- 
sation about  Christopher  on  Stella  Preston !  Oh,  poor 
old  Eve!  How  odd  it  seems!  How  could  he  be  so 
stupid !" 

"Perhaps  he's  been  very  wise.  The  ends  of  the  line 
meet  sometimes." 

At  which  point  Dominic  returned  and  Felicity  had 
to  recapitulate  her  news. 

Dominic  watched  her  while  he  listened.  He  had 
learnt  to  read  as  much  from  her  face  as  from  her 
lips. 

Adam's  marriage  in  any  case  claimed  his  interest, 
though  he  pronounced  no  judgment  on  it  as  to  its 
wisdom  or  folly.  His  interest  was  devoid  of  personal 
anxiety  and  was  contemplative  rather  than  active.  But 
Madre's  anxious  concern  that  had  brought  her  hot- 
footed from  her  sungirt  isle  on  the  first  possible  day 
interested  him  even  more. 

She  had  said  no  single  word  to  either  Veronica  or 
himself  that  could  betray  her  "hurt"  at  Adam's  con- 
sideration for  her.  Surprise,  a  little  excitement,  and 
some  anxiety  was  all  her  attitude  had  suggested  to 
Veronica,  but  Dominic  knew  the  hurt  was  there  and 
that  some  other  feeling  contributed  to  the  look  he  had 
once  or  twice  surprised  in  Madre's  eyes.  That  eve- 
ning when  he  found  himself  alone  with  her  he  faced 
the  matter  boldly. 

"I've  told  Veronica  to  ask  the  Prestons  to  supper  on 
Sunday  night.  You  won't  feel  better  over  it  all  until 
you've  seen  Adam,  Madre." 

She  tried  to  look  at  him  with  a  little  defiant  surprise 
and  failed.  A  sense  of  relief  crept  over  her.  If 


FELICITY  CROFTON  157' 

Dominic  knew  that  much  she  need  not  pretend  to 
him. 

"He  really  meant  to  save  me  worry,  Dominic." 

"You  really  mean  to  save  him  from  criticism." 

She  smiled. 

"There  is  nothing  to  criticise — and  I  am  nearly 
certain  all  will  be  well.  He  will  make  something  of 
Stella.  She  is  really  in  love  with  him." 

He  nodded. 

Felicity  continued  to  gaze  into  the  fire  and  he — 
waited.  He  hoped  Veronica  would  not  return  just 
yet.  As  if  she  read  his  thought  she  began  speaking 
quickly. 

"I  should  feel  very  badly  about  it,  Dominic,  if — if 
it  did  not  turn  out  well,  because  Mark  did  warn  me, 
you  see.  He  did  not  want  Stella  to  marry  Adam.  He 
had  an  idea  people  would  think  he  had  trapped  his 
rich  friend  for  his  penniless  sister.  That  was  so  like 
Mark!" 

"Yes.     Is  that  the  reason  he  gave  you?" 

"I — I  think  so — no  I  don't  think  he  gave  any  rea- 
son except  he  did  not  think  them  suited." 

"Mark  is  not  such  an  experienced  judge  of  charac- 
ter as  to  know  that.  I  expect  it  will  be  all  right, 
Madre.  Adam  isn't  a  fool  and  he  has  a  will  of  his 
own.  He  will  keep  hold  of  her.  Morbidity  won't 
flourish  near  him." 

Her  face  brightened  perceptibly. 

"Yes,  that's  it — what  I  feel.  He  is  so  sane  and 
healthy;  she  will  shake  off  her — morbidness." 

"No  doubt.  But,  Madre,  it's  none  of  your  fault  in 
any  case." 

"It  is,"  said  Felicity  slowly.  "That's  what  troubles 
me,  Dominic.  I  ought  to  have  kept  in  touch  with 
Stella.  I  didn't  only  because  I  did  not  much  like  her. 
If  I  had,  this  couldn't  have  happened  without  my 
knowledge." 


158  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"I  don't  believe  it  would  have  made  any  difference 
at  all." 

"Adam  did  say  in  one  letter  he  had  been  to  Piece- 
minster  and  seen  the  Forresters.  I  thought  then  of 
asking  her  to  come  out  to  me — it  was  when  I  first 
went  to  Corsica,  but  I  didn't  do  it.  I  wanted  to  enjoy 
it  alone.  It  was  pure  selfishness." 

Her  locked  fingers  were  pressed  together  till  her 
hands  were  white,  and  though  she  was  looking  down 
and  he  standing  so  he  could  not  see  her  face,  he  knew 
it  was  also  white  and  distressed.  But  she  had  at  last 
voiced  her  real  trouble  and  he  felt  a  relief. 

"She  wouldn't  have  come  then,  Madre,  if  you  had 
asked  her  a  hundred  times,"  he  said  earnestly.  "I've  a 
far  more  impartial  judgment  than  you  over  this  mat- 
ter. You  were  in  every  respect  entitled  to  your  own 
leisure  and  it  would  have  been  of  no  service  to  ask 
her.  She  wouldn't  have  come." 

He  reiterated  this  fact  with  an  assurance  that  car- 
ried conviction  and  comfort,  though  she  was  not  yet 
ready  to  admit  it. 

"And  very  likely  in  a  month's  time  you  will  be 
thanking  your  stars  you  didn't  do  anything  to  pre- 
vent it,"  he  added  more  lightly.  "You  are  not  to  be 
jealous  because  Adam  can  look  after  himself!" 

She  looked  up  and  knew  he  was  laughing  at  her  then 
and  she  laughed  back  and  then  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  It 
was  good  to  have  Dominic  to  turn  to.  She  felt  pro- 
foundly grateful — and  she  was  glad  she  had  come  to 
Hampstead. 

IV 

It  was  Dominic  who  arranged  that  her  first  meet- 
ing with  Adam  should  be  private.  Veronica  suggested 
asking  some  other  friends  to  meet  the  Prestons  on 
Sunday.  She  was  pleased  enough  to  see  Adam  but 


FELICITY  CROFTON  159 

undiluted  Stella  rather  alarmed  her.  Dominic,  how- 
ever, negatived  the  idea. 

"Next  time,  if  you  like,  and,  Veronica,"  he  added, 
"Madre  would  probably  like  to  see  Adam  by  herself. 
You  must  manage  to  take  Stella  upstairs  to  take  off 
her  hat  and  keep  her  there  ten  minutes  if  you  can." 

"All  that  trouble  for  a  possible  whim  of  Madre's?" 

"It's  not  a  trouble  to  a  clever  person  like  you — and 
I  don't  believe  you  know  how  big  a  thing  this  mar- 
riage is  to  Madre.  How  would  you  feel  if  Christo- 
pher went  and  established  himself  in  the  spare  room 
and  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  nice  nursery 
you  had  made  him?" 

"You  dear  old  silly,"  she  laughed;  "Christopher 
will  never  marry  without  telling  me  all  about  it.  I 
am  his  mother;  Madre  isn't  Adam's  mother." 

Whereupon  Dominic  told  her  she  was  without 
imagination,  and  kissed  her.  In  her  heart  of  hearts 
Veronica  really  did  think  that  her  husband  was  a 
little  faddy  over  her  mother's  fancies.  Still  it  was 
pleasant  to  gratify  their  little  idiosyncrasies;  they 
were  both  such  dears. 

She  managed  to  be  in  the  hall  when  the  Prestons 
arrived  on  Sunday  evening  and  to  take  Stella  upstairs 
under  pretext  of  seeing  Christopher  before  he  was 
asleep.  Dominic  ushered  Adam  into  the  drawing- 
room,  saying  he  would  be  there  directly,  and  so  Adam 
found  Felicity  alone. 

She  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  as  she 
had  stood  from  the  moment  she  had  heard  his  voice 
in  the  hall.  The  soft  light  from  the  rosy  shades  lent 
a  glow  to  her  face  which  was  rather  pale.  She  had 
dressed  with  especial  care. 

Adam  was  most  tremendously  pleased  to  see  her. 
He  took  both  the  hands  held  out  to  him  and  said  so, 
adding  quickly: 

"I  say,  Madre,  how  splendidly  ripping  you  look  and 


i6d  FELICITY  CROFTON 

how  well!  Is  that  Corsica?  It  was  nice  of  you  to 
come  and  see  us  the  very  first  day  you  got  back." 

"Did  you  think  I  should  wait  a  week?" 

He  did  not  read  a  shadow  of  reproach  in  her  voice. 

"Come  and  let  me  look  at  you  in  turn,"  she  went 
on.  "If  I  had  known  what  you  were  up  to  I  should 
have  come  back  in  time  to — help." 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  thought !"  exclaimed  Adam  tri- 
umphantly. "That's  why  I  didn't  tell  you.  You  were 
having  such  a  ripping  time  and  you  didn't  look  well 
when  you  started  and  it  would  have  been  such  a 
shame  to  bother  you.  What  made  you  come  back 
now?  I  thought  you  were  to  stay  till  the  end  of 
April?" 

"I  had  to  come  back,"  she  said  quietly. 

"Business?" 

"Yes.  Adam,  my  dear,  you  have  lovely  rooms  and 
Stella  knows  how  to  make  the  best  of  them." 

"They  are  decent.  How  do  you  think  Stella  is 
looking?" 

"Wonderfully  well.    What  did  the  regiment  say?" 

He  laughed  ruefully. 

"I  got  rather  hauled  over  the  coals  when  I  first  told 
the  Colonel,  but  in  the  end  he  was  very  decent  about 
my  living  in  town  and  they  are  all  getting  reconciled 
to  it  now.  I'm  pretty  careful  not  to  let  it  interfere 
with  work  and  I  didn't  even  ask  for  a  honeymoon!" 

This  entirely  commonplace  conversation  and  Adam's 
innocence  of  any  cause  of  reproach  between  them 
steadied  her.  The  very  unreality  of  their  talk  as  com- 
pared to  the  conflicting  trouble  of  her  thoughts  seemed 
a  bridge  to  carry  her  from  one  attitude  to  another. 
Adam  was  unaware  of  the  bridge,  but  he  was  faintly 
aware  that  Madre,  being  a  woman,  might  be  a  little 
disappointed  at  not  having  a  finger  in  "the  wedding 
pie,"  as  he  put  it  to  himself.  So  he  showed,  if  pos- 
sible, a  shade  more  deference  and  attention  than  usual 


FELICITY  CROFTON  161 

and  demanded  her  approval  to  his  desire,  not  to  bother 
Stella  with  housekeeping  at  first  set  off. 

He  was  really  anxious  for  Madre's  approval  of 
Stella  and  watched  their  meeting  when  the  latter  en- 
tered with  some  interest.  Stella  seemed  pleased  and 
even  relieved  to  sit  by  Madre  and  talk  to  her.  She 
did  not  like  Veronica  much  and  never  felt  at  ease 
with  her,  and  of  Dominic  she  was  frankly  afraid.  She 
said  she  did  not  like  his  eyes. 

Adam,  after  watching  them  for  a  little  time,  felt 
duly  satisfied  and  was  able  to  give  undivided  attention 
to  Veronica,  who  teased  him  and  talked  nonsense  pre- 
cisely as  she  had  done  five  years  ago. 

Dominic  saw  far  more  than  Adam  saw.  He  watched 
with  great  interest  Madre's  siege  of  Stella's  still  un- 
certain regard.  It  rather  reminded  him  of  a  child 
trying  to  catch  a  bird,  only  in  this  case  his  sympa- 
thies were  all  with  the  child.  He  divined,  too,  Stella's 
partly  jealous  attitude,  fighting  against  her  sense  of 
newness  and  solitude  that  would  find  such  good  cover 
behind  Madre's  friendship.  He  divined  also  her 
vague  fear  and  antagonism  to  men,  just  as  he  read  in 
her  little  speeches,  her  looks  and  attitudes  an  almost 
uncalculated  desire  for  attention.  It  was  not  so  much 
that  she  was  artificial  as  that  it  was  her  primary  in- 
stinct to  act  and  impress  some  audience  with  a  sense 
of  pregnant  happenings. 

"It's  to  be  hoped  Madre  will  catch  her  and  keep 
good  hold  of  her,"  was  his  summing  up  of  the  situa- 
tion, "for  there  will  be  trouble  between  her  and  Adam 
before  long." 


1 62  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER  VII 

"That  Inevitable  Point  in  Life  When  the 
Past  and.  Future  Bending  to  Each  Other 
Touch  Issues." 


IT  was  six  weeks  at  least  before  the  serene  honey- 
moon sea  was  seriously  ruffled  for  Stella  and  Adam, 
and  the  ruffling  happened  this  wise. 

The  cause  of  it  was  Mark's  letter,  or  letters,  in  reply 
to  Adam's  wire  cable,  announcing  the  marriage. 

He  wrote  a  short  letter  to  Adam,  saying  frankly  he 
could  have  wished  it  otherwise,  but  that  it  was  no 
personal  objection  to  Adam  that  prompted  his  objec- 
tion. That  Stella  was  a  lucky  girl  and  he  hoped  she 
appreciated  her  luck,  that  he  was  sending  them  a  pres- 
ent and  that  he  wished  them  all  happiness. 

His  letter  to  Stella  was  curt  and  to  the  point. 

Dear  Stella: 

Since  you  have  taken  your  own  line,  regardless  of  my 
wishes,  I  hope  you  at  least  took  notice  of  my  warning  and 
told  Adam  why  you  were  in  Germany.  If  you  haven't  told 
him,  I  must.  Please  send  me  word  by  return  mail.  If  you 
have,  and  Adam  has  accepted  the  very  slight  risk,  then  I  am 
profoundly  thankful  and  wish  you  every  happiness  and  we'll 
bury  the  past  forever.  I've  written  to  Mother,  telling  her 
not  to  worry.  She  was  badly  upset  and  I  don't  think  you 
showed  her  proper  consideration.  Still,  I  suppose  you  rather 
lost  your  head.  All  good  luck  to  you.  Yours, 

MARK. 

The  two  letters  arrived  by  the  same  post,  Adam 
was  opening  his  when  Stella  entered, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  163 

"Letter  from  Mark  at  last,"  he  said  cheerfully. 

Stella  saw  her  own  letter,  the  only  one  for  her,  and 
as  she  sat  down  she  wondered  with  dull  anger  if 
the  sight  of  Mark's  handwriting  would  always  give 
her  that  queer,  sick  feeling  that  she  was  falling  into 
an  unfathomable  pit.  Seeing  Adam  engaged  on  his 
she  opened  it  with  an  effort  and  read  it.  The  solid 
earth  seemed  slipping  from  under  her. 

"That's  all  right  then,"  said  Adam,  as  he  finished 
his.  "Lot  of  rot,  of  course — still — you  may  as  well 
see." 

He  tossed  the  letter  across  to  her.  It  was  not  his 
rule  to  pass  on  his  letters,  and  Stella  instantly  fright- 
ened herself  into  the  terrifying  belief  he  would  ex- 
pect her  to  do  the  same.  Perhaps  it  was  the  fright 
that  made  her  lose  her  head,  for  she  hardly  saw  the 
words.  She  pretended  to  read.  The  panic  sent  her 
poor  wits  flying  in  all  directions  for  shelter  and  she 
chose  the  worst  available. 

She  made  some  excuse  for  fetching  a  handkerchief, 
and  rose,  taking  her  letter  with  her. 

Adam  glanced  up  quickly.  He  had  seen  the  en- 
velope, and  seeing  her  face  now  decided  that  Mark  had 
upset  her,  and  frowned.  He  feared  the  truth! 

"Has  he  been  polite  to  you  too?"  he  called  out. 

She  stopped  with  her  hand  on  the  door. 

"Who?" 

"Mark." 

She  looked  down  at  the  letter — the  Indian  stamp 
was  undeniable  but  the  writing  was  not  very  obvi- 
ously Mark's. 

"Mine's  not  from  Mark.  It's  from  an  old  friend  in 
India." 

She  rose  to  the  situation  she  had  created  with  con- 
summate art,  a  small  compunction  at  deceiving  him 
chased  by  flying  shapes  of  necessity,  and  all  wrapped 
in  a  cloud  of  hate  of  Mark  and  a  fear  of  Adam.  The 


164  FELICITY  CROFTON 

sensations  were  to  her  shaking  mind,  instantaneous. 
They  outpaced  her  now.  She  hung  the  fraction  of  a 
second  on  her  steps,  looking  down  at  the  letter.  Then 
went  into  her  room  and  reappeared  almost  at  once 
with  a  handkerchief  tucked  into  her  dress  and  without 
the  letter. 

"Florrie's  rigmarole  will  keep,"  she  said.  "She 
appears  to  have  married!  More  coffee,  Adam?" 

She  did  it  well.  So  well  that  Adam,  who  had  been 
eating  silently  and  had  not  looked  up,  djd  so  now. 
She  did  not  meet  his  eyes  because  she  was  intent  on 
the  coffee,  but  her  face  was  placid.  Not  the  least 
telltale  glimpse  of  a  blush.  For  a  moment  Adam's 
mind  wavered.  The  thing  was  incredible.  Was  he 
mistaken?  But  his  belief  in  the  infallibility  of  his 
own  eyesight  was  irreducible.  He  knew  the  letter  was 
from  Mark. 

Therefore  the  inexplicable  incident  filled  him  with 
bewildered  anger.  He  did  not  feel  shame  for  her,  but 
he  was  momentarily  at  least  ashamed  of  her. 

He  finished  his  meal  and  rose  hurriedly;  told  her 
his  probable  hour  of  return  as  usual  and  went. 

Stella  sat  wondering  dully  if  he  had  forgotten  or 
intentionally  omitted  a  good-bye  kiss.  She  told  her- 
self now  she  must  not  get  in  a  panic,  that  she  must 
use  her  reason.  Adam  had  had  other  letters.  It  was 
possible  one  may  have  worried  him.  It  was  any  way 
incredible  that  he  should  not  have  believed  her  state- 
ment. She  had  done  it  quite  well.  She  felt  a  thrill 
of  indignation  with  him  at  the  thought  he  might  not 
have  believed  her.  It  was  so — so  unchivalrous  of 
him !  It  was  all  Mark's  fault.  How  she  hated  Mark ! 
He  was  trying  to  ruin  her  happiness. 

Tell  Adam  now?    "Never!   Never!" 

She  burnt  this  letter  as  she  had  burnt  the  former 
one,  with  vicious  satisfaction. 

All  through  the  day  disagreeable  thoughts  haunted 


FELICITY  CROFTON  165 

her.  Suppose  Adam  really  had  not  believed  her? 
Her  imagination  at  such  an  event  shrouded  itself 
behind  a  subtle  fear.  She  told  herself  it  was  one  of 
the  cases  when  one  had  to  be  strong  enough  to  de- 
ceive another  for  their  own  good.  There  were  such 
cases;  she  had  read  of  them  in  books.  It  would  not 
be  good  for  Adam  to  see  Mark's  letter,  therefore  she 
had  to  deceive  him. 

The  comforting  theory  was  ousted  by  a  wish  she 
had  merely  said  Mark's  letter  was  for  her  eyes  only. 
She  saw  now  that  would  have  been  the  wise  and 
simple  course,  or  at  least  she  saw  it  for  a  few  min- 
utes, but  it  was  not  a  consoling  thought,  so  she  let 
it  go. 

She  had  really  had  to  act  on  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment and  if  she  had  said  that,  it  would  have  made 
him  suspicious.  Perhaps  if  he  had  thought  Mark  had 
upset  her  he  would  have  written  to  Mark  angrily.  So 
quickly  did  her  subtle  mind  find  cover  for  its  subter- 
fuge, cover  and  excuse. 

But  she  was  very  miserable.  She  sat  for  a  whole 
hour  by  the  fire,  gazing  in  front  of  her  with  big  tear- 
less eyes  that  took  an  agonised  expression.  There 
was  all  this  long  day  of  uncertainty  to  face,  and  stiil 
worse,  Adam  to  face  at  the  end  of  it. 

She  must  do  something. 

An  inspiration  seized  her. 

She  would  ring  up  Madre  and  ask  her  to  dinner. 
That  would  put  Adam  in  a  good  temper  and  by  the 
time  Madre  left,  he  would  have  forgotten. 

She  sprang  up  with  this  intention,  and  then  recol- 
lected that  Madre  had  gone  down  to  Bath.  How  like 
Madre  not  to  be  there  the  one  day  she  was  wanted! 
Anyhow  she  would  go  out  and  buy  things.  It  was  the 
only  panacea  for  her  woes  she  could  think  of.  She 
did  not  know  her  Mother  had  found  the  same  panacea 
long  years  ago! 


166  FELICITY  CROFTON 


ii 

Meanwhile  Adam  went  to  Woolwich  with  stern 
anger  in  his  heart  and  behind  it  a  feeling  so  new  to 
him  that  he  had  no  name  for  it.  It  was  dismay !  The 
whole  thing  was  to  him  so  impossible.  His  conscience 
acquitted  him  of  giving  occasion  for  such  a  reprehen- 
sible course  and  he  could  feel  nothing  but  blind  indig- 
nation. 

It  was  not  till  the  morning  was  over — he  sternly 
ousted  the  subject  during  his  hours  of  duty — that  he 
began  to  divide  the  weight  of  his  anger. 

Mark  must  have  said  something  to  upset  Stella  very 
greatly  to  reduce  her  to  a  lie. 

Even  then  it  was  a  considerable  time  before  he 
arrived  at  the  fact.  Stella  may  have  thought  he  would 
want  to  see  the  letter.  Of  course,  if  he  had  thought 
Mark  had  been  brutal  to  her  he  would  have  wanted 
to  see  it.  Mark  hadn't  a  shadow  of  right  to  terrorise 
Stella  in  this  way!  The  weight  shifted  quite  percep- 
tibly. 

By  the  time  he  was  free  to  return  westward,  the 
greater  part  of  it  rested  on  Mark's  shoulders  and  the 
residue  remaining  to  Stella  was  mixed  with  a  little 
impatient  contempt. 

Anyhow  it  mustn't  happen  again.  He  made  up  his 
mind  to  that.  It  would  be  a  disagreeable  subject,  of 
course,  to  tackle  with  Stella,  but  it  had  to  be  done. 
Adam  was  not  given  to  shirking  jobs  because  they 
were  disagreeable. 

Stella  was  out  when  he  arrived,  which  gave  him  a 
momentary  qualm,  as  it  was  so  far  without  precedent. 
She  had  left  a  little  pencil  note,  saying  she  had  gone 
calling  and  would  he  ring  for  tea  if  he  was  back 
before  she  was,  and  that  anyhow  she  would  not  be 
late. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  167 

It  conveyed  a  sense  of  affection  something  in  the 
nature  of  an  olive  branch.  He  ordered  tea  and  about 
two  minutes  after  she  came  in,  looking  rather  white 
and  tired  and  complaining  of  a  headache. 

He  allowed  her  the  restorative  of  tea,  but  once  that 
was  over  he  "rode  straight  for  his  fence."  Headache 
or  not,  the  matter  was  better  settled  to-night ! 

When  she  said  she  would  go  and  take  off  her  things 
he  stopped  her. 

"Look  here,  Stella,"  he  said  quietly,  "I  want  you 
to  explain  why  you  said  that  letter  was  not  from  Mark 
this  morning?" 

She  had  the  sense  to  surrender  instantly,  and  resist 
faint  impulses  towards  accusations  of  prying  on  her 
correspondence.  Besides,  the  letter  was  burnt  and 
could  do  no  harm  now. 

She  began  to  cry. 

"It  wasn't  a  kind  letter.  I  didn't  want  you  to  see 
it!" 

"But,  hang  it  all,  Stella,  have  I  ever  asked  to  see 
your  letters?" 

She  had  made  him  feel  uncomfortable  and  in  the 
wrong,  though  his  common  sense  supported  him 
against  mere  sensation. 

"I  suppose  he  had  upset  you  and  you  lost  your 
head?"  he  went  on  gloomily.  "Well  look  here,  Stella, 
you  mustn't  do  that  again.  I  won't  have  it."  His 
voice  was  a  little  harsher  than  he  thought  and  she 
made  no  resistance  to  a  rush  of  fear  which  read  vague 
threats  behind  his  really  tolerant  words. 

"I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing,"  she  burst  out 
with  sudden  passion.  Her  eyes  were  wholly  pleading, 
and  she  stretched  out  tremulous  hands.  "Adam,  I 
did  not  know  really.  I  was  just  upset  by  what  Mark 
said.  He  can  be  so  brutal  and  he  thought  I  had  treated 
Mother  badly.  But  I  have  been  so  miserable  all  day 
I  felt  you  were  thinking  dreadful  things  of  me.  I 


1 68  FELICITY  CROFTON 

hardly  know  how  I've  kept  going.  Men  are  so  fright- 
ening when  they  are  angry!" 

He  was  revolted  at  his  own  harshness.  After  all, 
women  were  made  that  way,  afraid  of  things.  He 
had  been  hardly  less  a  brute  than  Mark.  Perhaps 
she  had  made  herself  quite  ill! 

He  went  down  on  his  knees  beside  her  and  soothed 
her,  and  though  he  did  not  denounce  his  own  behav- 
iour as  cruel  he  conveyed  to  her  the  most  poignant 
regret  for  frightening  her.  It  was  all  his  fault  and 
Mark's — only  she  mustn't  do  it  again! 

And  Stella  promised  she  would  not. 

She  lay  on  the  sofa,  a  white  fragile  looking  lily, 
all  the  evening,  and  he  read  to  her  and  between  whiles 
decided  he  would  not  after  all  write  a  piece  of  his 
mind  to  Mark  as  it  might  involve  giving  Stella 
away. 

And  he  had  Stella's  promise  it  should  not  happen 
again. 

in 

Felicity  had  not  written  to  Mark  until  after  she  had 
paid  her  first  visit  to  the  Prestons.  She  wrote,  in 
fact,  the  same  evening  as  that  event,  and  though  she 
pleaded  guilty  of  neglecting  his  warning  and  wishes 
and  did  not  spare  herself  reproach,  yet  there  was  a 
certain  discountenancing  of  Mark's  vaguely  expressed 
fears  which  would  not  have  been  there  if  she  had  writ- 
ten from  Corsica.  She  reasoned  with  some  force 
against  the  quixote  pride  which  would  not  let  the 
world  so  much  as  suspect  him  of  taking  advantage  of 
his  friend.  "All  your  friends  know  that  you  haven't 
and  what  does  it  matter  what  others  think — while  as 
to  their  not  being  suited — Heaven  forbid  we  should 
attempt  to  sort  our  nearest  and  dearest  into  couples 
according  to  our  own  idea  of  their  needs.  They  are 


FELICITY  CROFTON  169 

young,  they  have  everything  on  their  side,  and  Adam 
is  the  best  of  fellows." 

Mark  did  not  himself  answer  this  for  some  time. 
He  awaited  the  arrival  of  a  letter  from  Stella  by 
every  mail,  but  none  came.  It  was  only  when  the 
"other  woman"  rallied  him  on  his  divided  attention 
that  he  made  up  his  mind  what  he  would  do. 

What  he  did  was  to  write  to  Felicity,  and  what  she 
did  on  receipt  of  the  letter  was  to  go  for  a  long  soli- 
tary walk  and  thank  Heaven  the  gay  little  party  she 
was  entertaining  would  disperse  in  the  next  two  days 
and  leave  her  free. 

London  was  a  very  unattractive  place  to  Felicity 
in  May  and  she  thought  with  almost  a  sensation  of 
irritation  that  it  seemed  much  farther  off  than  it  used 
to  be.  Also  that  it  was  a  hot  disagreeable  journey. 
Still  it  had  to  be  faced. 

Consequently  two  days  later  she  called  on  the  Pres- 
tons  and  found  Stella  at  home  and  charmed  to  see  her. 

Stella  had  certainly  improved  in  looks  and  whether 
one  liked  her  dress  or  not,  one  had  to  confess  it  per- 
sonified her.  She  was  clad  in  a  wonderful  rose-red 
gown  that  showed  vividly  against  the  dark  panelling 
and  tussore  silk  hangings.  The  jade  necklace,  for  all 
its  disquieting  effect,  was  effective.  The  room  was 
cool  and  shaded.  The  very  flowers  in  it  and  the  cush- 
ion cover  seemed  a  foil  to  Stella's  appearance.  It  was 
all  emphatically  a  setting  for  her  and  it  gave  the  im- 
pression of  a  setting  of  immense  comfort. 

After  a  few  inquiries  Felicity  said  frankly  she  had 
come  up  on  purpose  to  see  Stella. 

The  curious,  hunted  look  that  leapt  to  Stella's  eyes 
shocked  her.  She  made  haste  to  assure  her  she  bore 
no  ill  news,  that  she  had  only  come  because  she  had 
had  a  letter  from  Mark  which  made  her  think  Stella 
wanted  to  consult  her. 

The  frightened  look  changed  to  one  of  helpless,  pas- 


170  FELICITY  CROFTON 

sionate  resentment  that  was  another  shock.  Stella 
made  no  attempt  to  hide  it. 

She  had  never  answered  Mark's  letter.  She  ar- 
gued to  herself  that  so  long  as  she  did  not  answer  it, 
he  could  not  know  whether  she  had  told  Adam  or  not, 
and  would  therefore  do  nothing.  That  he  should  have 
told  Mrs.  Crofton  and  have  "set  her  on  to  hunt  her — 
Stella — to  his  own  ends"  filled  her  not  so  much  with 
indignation  as  with  a  sense  of  impotent  helplessness 
in  the  hands  of  fate.  She  needed  something  or  some 
one  to  turn  to  in  this  dilemma  and  it  might  as  well  be 
Mrs.  Crofton  as  any  one  else ! 

"Mark  is  cruel,"  she  cried  with  poignant  distress. 
"Does  he  tell  every  one  about  me?" 

And  Felicity  spent  fifteen  minutes  soothing  her  and 
bringing  her  to  a  more  reasonable  frame  of  mind. 
Stella  admitted  that  Mark  had  told  her  she  should  tell 
Adam  her  story,  and  that  she  didn't  want  to  do  so. 
It  was  all  over  and  done  with. 

"You  said  yourself  one  should  let  the  past  be  past !" 
she  entreated,  slipping  from  her  chair  to  the  floor  at 
Felicity's  knees  and  clasping  her  hands  on  her  lap. 

Felicity's  mind  leapt  back  to  a  summer  evening  at 
Bath  six  years  ago. 

"Well,  what  exactly  does  he  want  you  to  tell  Adam, 
my  dear?"  she  questioned  at  last. 

"About  that  man,  I  suppose.  I  did  tell  you  about 
it,  didn't  I?" 

"Yes.  You  went  to  him  and  Mark  brought  you 
back." 

Her  voice  was  encouraging  and  sympathetic.  There 
must  be  more  to  tell,  she  thought. 

"You  see,  people  in  Pieceminster  knew  all  about  it. 
That's  what  made  Mark  and  Mother  so  upset  and 
horrified.  I  went  to  his  rooms  in  London  and  his 
man  was  a  Pieceminster  man,  so  it  got  about." 

"But  I  thought  he  was  a  married  man?" 


'YOU    SAID    YOURSELF    ONE    SHOULD    LET    THE    PAST    BE    PAST,       SHE 
ENTREATED 


FELICITY  CROFTON  171 

"Yes,  but  his  wife  was  abroad  ill.  I  think  he  was 
really  quite  fond  of  her.  He  wasn't  at  his  rooms  and 
I  waited  and  waited  till  it  was  quite  dark — and  then 
Mark  came!" 

"And  the  man  never  came?" 

"He  came  in  just  after  Mark — at  first  they  were 
horrid  to  each  other  and  then  they  were  both  horrid 
to  me!" 

She  shivered.  Her  white  face  looked  strained  and 
wretched  under  the  recollection.  Felicity  realised  she 
was  relating  an  indelible  experience  exactly  and  with- 
out embroideries  and  she  felt  almost  thankful. 

"And  that's  all?" 

Stella  twisted  her  hands. 

"Mark  took  me  home — and  I  was  very  wretched 
and  every  one  was  horrible  to  me — and  so — so  I  got 
ill.  I  hardly  knew  what  I  did.  Nothing  did  me  any 
good  and  then  Mark  heard  of  a  doctor  in  Germany 
and  insisted  on  my  going  there.  I  hated  it — but  he — 
I — got  all  right  again." 

Clearly  a  case  of  extreme  hysteria  treated  in  the  first 
place  injudiciously  and  necessitating  strong  measures 
later  on.  So  Felicity  summed  it  up. 

"And  now  Mark  wants  you  to  tell  Adam  this?" 

"I  suppose  so," — her  tone  was  the  expression  of 
extremest  misery. 

"I  wonder  why!"  murmured  Felicity,  half  to  her- 
self and  knitting  her  brows.  There  seemed  no  reason 
in  it  to  her  at  first  sight. 

Stella  went  on  in  her  resentful  way: 

"I  can't  see  why  I  should  tell  Adam.  He  would 
hate  it  all.  He  wouldn't  understand — and  the  man 
did  make  love  to  me — and  no  one  knew  he  was  mar- 
ried. It  wasn't  my  fault !  I  didn't  do  anything  wrong 
except  to  go  to  see  him  to  learn  the  truth  when  they 
all  said  things  about  him,  because  I  didn't  believe  it! 
It  was  no  wonder  I  got  ill.  You  can't  think  how  hor- 


172  FELICITY  CROFTON 

rid  people  were — just  as  if  I  had  been  a  bad  girl — I 
hadn't  anything  else  to  think  of,  so  I  got  ill !" 

Felicity's  heart  sickened  at  being  brought  face  to 
face  with  the  crass  stupidity  of  a  narrow  little  world 
that  went  on  blindly  making  tragedies  out  of  scant  ma- 
terial that  might  be  employed  for  better  purposes.  The 
wonder  was  not  that  Stella  had  been  ill,  but  that  she 
had  ever  shaken  off  the  effects.  The  German  doctor 
must  have  been  a  clever  man. 

"I  shouldn't  ever  be  ill  like  that  again,"  went  on 
Stella  with  the  same  dreary  resentment.  "I  shouldn't 
be  unhappy  like  that  again.  Why  should  Adam  know 
anything  about  it?" 

Yes,  why?  Felicity  was  asking  herself  that  ques- 
tion. Her  own  common  sense  was  all  for  letting  ill 
alone,  but  there  was  Mark's  insistent  command.  Per- 
haps the  little  scandal  had  been  really  widely  spread. 
There  was  the  man's  side  of  it.  She  knew  nothing 
about  him  and  did  not  wish  to  know  anything.  There 
might  be  points  there  of  which  Stella  knew  nothing. 
Suppose  the  whole  story  might  come  to  Adam  some 
day  in  an  exaggerated  form?  Yes,  undoubtedly  that 
was  it. 

Her  hand  caressed  Stella's  hair  softly.  There  was 
protection  and  pity  in  her  touch.  She  gauged  fully 
the  nervous  overstrained  nature,  badly  brought  up, 
badly  dealt  with,  and  faced  with  an  emotional  crisis 
which  instead  of  being  minimised  and  rendered  harm- 
less had  been  exaggerated  and  stretched  into  out- 
rageous proportions  till  it  left  no  room  for  saner 
thought  in  the  excitable  brain.  There  was  Stella  with 
her  passionate  love  of  colour,  of  emotion,  of  comfort, 
flung  back  on  herself  at  the  precise  moment  when  her- 
self was  the  worst  possible  companion! 

And  now,  Stella  had  her  chance!  She  was  mar- 
ried to  as  opposite  a  type  as  could  be  found.  Virile, 
sane,  and  healthy,  Here  would  be  no  subtle  under- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  173 

standing  of  her,  but  Felicity  felt  no  qualms.  Chivalry 
would  take  the  place  of  sympathy,  and  common  sense 
the  place  of  understanding. 

After  all,  there  might  be  something  in  Mark's  in- 
sistence. It  would  not  do  for  Adam  to  come  across 
this  same  ugly  little  story  in  an  exaggerated  form 
later  on.  She  thought,  a  little  resentfully,  that  Mark 
might  have  written  and  told  Adam  himself  and  saved 
Stella  the  worry,  but  perhaps  he  had  not  felt  entitled 
to  do  so.  His  letter  to  her  had  been  most  considerate 
towards  his  sister.  He  had  merely  said  that  there  was 
something  he  thought  Stella  should  tell  Adam  and  that 
probably  she  had.  If  she  hadn't  would  Madre  back 
her  up  and  give  her  the  necessary  moral  support  ? 

"You'll  see  the  best  way  of  telling  him,"  Mark  said. 
"Stella  hasn't  much  backbone,  but  it's  only  fair  to 
Adam  to  tell  him.  Once  he  knows,  there  will  be  an 
end  to  it.  It  would  be  his  affair!" 

She  reconsidered  the  words.  Clearly  Mark  was 
afraid  of  it  coming  to  Adam's  ears  in  a  roundabout 
way,  and  if  he  had  reason  for  this  fear,  he  had  reason 
for  his  insistence.  Mark  wasn't  a  man  to  make  a  fuss 
of  trifles! 

"I  can't  see  why  I  should  tell  Adam,"  reiterated 
Stella.  "It  would  be  horrid." 

"Yes,  I  know.  But  suppose  he  heard  it  all  much 
exaggerated  from  some  one  else?  Look  here,  Stella 
dear,  shall  I  tell  him  ?  It's  really  not  a  serious  matter 
though  it  seems  so  to  you  now.  But  I  can  tell  him  all 
you've  told  me  quite  simply  and  you  need  say  noth- 
ing." 

Stella  twisted  round  towards  her  with  her  face 
aglow. 

"Would  you?  If  only  you  would,  why  that  would 
end  it.  And  you  could  write  and  tell  Mark  so,  and 
tell  him  not  to  bother  me  any  more  over  it.  It  really 
makes  me  feel  ill.  I  daresay,  Madre,  you  think  I  am 


174  FELICITY  CROFTON 

a  coward.  Veronica  wouldn't  behave  like  this,  but  it 
frightens  me.  Adam  might  get  angry  and  I  should 
lose  my  head." 

"Nonsense,  child!  But  I'll  tell  him.  It's  really 
better  so.  You'll  soon  grow  braver  and  less  afraid 
of  things — living  with  Adam.  You  are  bound  to." 

Stella  shook  her  head. 

"I  don't  see  Adam  much,"  she  said  dolefully.  "He's 
away  all  day.  I  wish  he'd  give  up  the  army  and  live 
in  his  own  house." 

"Stella,  my  dear,"  cried  Felicity,  horrified,  "you 
mustn't  wish  that !  It's  terrible  for  a  young  man  to  be 
idle  just  because  he's  enough  to  live  on,  and  Adam 
hasn't  even  a  big  estate  to  look  after." 

"But  I'm  not  cut  out  for  a  soldier's  wife.  You  see, 
I  don't  much  like  the  C.  O.'s  wife — nor  Mrs.  Raw- 
lins — that's  the  major's  wife.  The  only  one  I  rather 
like  is  Mrs.  Felton  and  Adam  doesn't  like  her  at  all." 

"Still,  Adam  can  hardly  give  up  his  profession  be- 
cause you  don't  like  his  fellow  officers'  wives!" 

"Then  he  may  have  to  go  abroad,"  went  on  Stella 
plaintively,  ignoring  this  statement.  "Perhaps  to  a 
bad  climate." 

"He  hasn't  got  to  go  yet  any  way.  And  it  might 
be  to  a  good  climate.  Stella,  you  ought  to  be  thank- 
ful every  day  that  your  husband  has  a  profession  and 
ambition  to  do  well  in  it." 

Felicity's  voice  was  a  little  stern  and  Stella  sighed. 

"Sometimes  I  think  he  really  cares  more  for  his 
profession  than  he  does  for  me!" 

"Then  put  the  thought  out  of  your  silly  little  head 
and  try  to  remember  that  men  want  a  great  deal  more 
in  their  lives  than  a  woman !  She  may  be  the  crown 
of  it,  but  you  can't  have  a  crown  without  something 
to  put  it  on." 

It  was  not  till  Felicity  was  leaving  that  she  made 
any  more  allusion  to  the  purpose  of  her  visit, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  175 

"I  will  tell  Adam  tomorrow  and  I  have  it  all  cor- 
rectly, haven't  I?" 

Stella,  who  was  standing  by  the  window,  half  turned 
towards  her  and  looked  hard  at  the  patch  of  sunlight 
on  the  carpet  as  one  struggling  with  memory. 

"Yes — I — think  you  have  it  all,"  she  gave  a  per- 
ceptible pause.  "I  didn't  tell  you  the  man  said  he  had 
always  thought  of  me  as  a  child  and  had  no  idea  I 
had  taken  him  seriously." 

It  was  all  perfectly  convincing.  The  little  pause, 
the  little  effort  of  memory,  the  little  detail  of  some- 
thing that  hurt  her  pride  cruelly !  She  glanced  up  and 
there  was  passionate  gratitude  in  her  eyes. 

"Madre,  I  can  never  thank  you  enough !" 

Felicity  was  a  shade  too  conscious  of  the  bigness  of 
the  eyes  and  the  droop  of  her  mouth  and  of  something 
oddly  unreal  about  her  to  feel  quite  happy  at  her  grat- 
itude. She  wished  again  she  could  like  Stella  more. 

"I  am  glad  enough  to  help  you,  my  dear.  I  always 
should  be,"  she  said  with  real  truth.  "And  now,  put 
all  this  from  you,  if  there's  nothing  more  you  want 
me  to  say  to  Adam." 

"Nothing  at  all,"  said  Stella  fervently. 


IV 

"Indeed,  Adam,  girls  of  that  age  are  often  rather 
foolish,  especially  if  they  have  no  one  to  guide  them." 

"I'm  not  blaming  Stella,"  put  in  Adam  gruffly  as 
he  walked  up  and  down.  "Of  course  her  people  never 
looked  after  her  properly.  I  always  knew  that.  What 
I  want  to  know  is  what  Mark  did  to  that  brute." 

"I  don't  know  in  the  least.  I  don't  even  know  his 
name,  nor  do  I  want  to,  and  you  are  not  to  ask  Stella. 
It's  all  over  and  done  with  and  she  ought  to  be  allowed 
to  forget  it.  It  accounts,  of  course,  for  Stella  being 


176  FELICITY  CROFTON 

so — so  inclined  to  take  a  gloomy  view  of  things.  She'll 
grow  out  of  that  if  you  help  her,  not  if  you  remind 
her." 

"I  won't  speak  about  it  to  her,  poor  girl — but 
Mark " 

"No,  not  to  Mark  either,"  said  Felicity  firmly.  "I 
don't  even  know  if  he  were  right  in  wanting  you  to 
know  at  all.  I  can  only  suppose  he  thought  you  would 
hear  it  from  some  one  else  at  Pieceminster — some 
sort  of  exaggerated  account — but  now  you  do  know, 
for  goodness'  sake  let  it  drop!  The  man's  nothing 
to  you  or  Stella.  Don't  let  her  think  that  you  take 
it  seriously.  That's  what  has  been  the  matter  all 
through.  She  has  been  made  to  think  it  all  such  a 
profoundly  important  thing,  whereas,  rightly  treated, 
it  would  have  been  nothing  but  an  incident  from  which 
she  might  have  gathered  a  little  wisdom." 

He  yielded  to  her  opinion  after  a  little  more  strug- 
gle and  owned  grudgingly  that  he  was  at  least  glad  he 
knew,  as  he'd  have  been  furious  to  learn  it  from  any 
one  else. 

"But  it  wouldn't  have  made  any  difference  to  your 
marriage  if  you  had  known." 

She  did  not  put  it  as  a  question,  but  a  statement  of 
fact.  Nevertheless  she  most  ardently  desired  an  an- 
swer. He  stopped  short  and  regarded  her  with  a  puz- 
zled frown. 

"Difference?  Of  course  not!  It  only  shows  how 
fearfully  badly  she  wanted  some  one  to  look  after 
her!" 

"You  like  looking  after  people,  Adam." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Some  one  has  to — it's  all  in  the  day's  work.  If 
people  behaved  decently  there  wouldn't  be  the  need. 
Anyhow,  I  hate  seeing  girls  miserable  and  ill  when 
there  is  no  occasion.  Stella  was  just  made  ill  by 
worry,  on  your  showing,  which  is  absurd !  If  they  are 


FELICITY  CROFTON  -177 

kept  happy  and  amused  they  wouldn't  make  all  this 
fuss  about  votes!" 

Which  somewhat  incoherent  moralising  was  proof 
of  the  disturbance  of  his  mind. 

"Stella  at  all  events  is  beginning  to  enjoy  life, 
thanks  to  you." 

"And  I've  done  nothing  but  be  decent  to  her!"  he 
exclaimed  triumphantly.  "You  see  how  right  I  am!" 

Felicity  broke  into  an  unsteady  little  laugh  and  held 
out  her  hand. 

"Oh,  Adam,  you  dear  boy!" 

"Well,  I  must  go  now,"  he  said  hurriedly,  having 
taken  her  hand  with  rather  a  shamefaced  expression. 
"I  daresay  I've  talked  nonsense.  Thanks  for  telling 
me,  though.  I  think  Mark  might  have  done  it  him- 
self and  saved  you  trouble.  Say  good-bye  to  Veronica 
for  me." 

When  he  had  gone  Felicity  straightened  a  footstool 
he  had  kicked  aside  in  his  first  impatient  anger,  and 
then  sat  down  by  the  open  window.  Dominic  found 
her  there  in  the  dusk,  looking  a  little  white  and  tired. 
He  made  no  allusion  to  Adam's  visit,  though  he  had 
learnt  from  Veronica  in  the  morning  that  he  was  ex- 
pected. 

Dominic  sat  down  near  her.  She  owned  she  was 
tired.  He  was  a  little  worried  and  puzzled  at  her 
excessive  languor  and  disinclination  to  talk,  but  she 
seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  his  presence  and  to  wish 
him  to  stay. 

"I  don't  think  Madre  is  well,"  he  said  to  Veronica; 
that  night,  and  Veronica  stopped  brushing  her  hair, 
and  stared  at  him. 

"I  don't  think  there  is  much  the  matter.  She  is 
just  tired." 

"Why^is  she  tired?" 

Veronica  resumed  her  brushing. 

"It  was  a  hot  journey  up  yesterday," 


178  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"She  used  not  to  mind  hot  journeys." 

"She'll  only  say  she  is  perfectly  all  right  if  I  ask 
her." 

"No,  don't  ask  her,"  said  Dominic  hurriedly.  "She 
hates  that  I  expect  she  worries  too  much  over  the 
Preston  menage." 

"She  must  have  some  one  to  look  after  and  worry 
over.  At  least  I  don't  think  she's  really  worried, 
Dominic.  She's  just  interested  in  putting  things 
straight." 

"What's  wrong?" 

She  laughed. 

"How  should  I  know?  Oh,  Dominic,  Madre  is 
quite  used  to  looking  after  herself !" 

"And  others!  I  know  that!"  he  retorted  drily. 
"That's  no  reason  why  some  one  should  not  occasion- 
ally look  after  her." 

"Some  one  does,  I  think !"  She  put  her  brush  down 
and  reached  out  to  touch  his  arm.  "It's  so  nice  of  you 
to  care  so  for  Madre.  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
have  done  if  you  had  just  regarded  her  as  an  ordi- 
nary mother-in-law !" 

There  was  heartfelt  feeling  in  her  voice.  She  did, 
indeed,  consider  it  a  subject  of  immense  congratula- 
tion that  there  was  Dominic  to  look  after  Madre.  But 
for  him  she  would  have  had  to  be  just  the  tiniest  bit 
anxious  herself.  A  reversal  of  roles  that  she  felt 
would  have  been  no  earthly  good.  Veronica  regarded 
useless  anxiety  as  little  short  of  a  crime. 

Neither  she  nor  Dominic  would  have  found  their 
slight  anxiety  relieved  had  they  known  that  Felicity 
passed  the  night  sitting  up  in  a  big  armchair  before  the 
open  window.  She  slept  for  short  spells  and  laid 
awake  for  longer  ones,  watching  the  invisible  hand  of 
dawn  steal  night's  veil  in  search  of  the  coming  day. 
She  was  not  unhappy  or  worried  nor  did  the  night  seem 
very  long.  She  slept  better  like  this  than  lying  down 


FELICITY  CROFTON 

m  bed  with  darkened  windows.  There  was  more  air. 
But  she  took  care  to  disarrange  the  bed  clothes  before 
the  maid  came  in  with  her  morning  tea. 

"I  think  camping  out  or  a  caravan  would  be  the 
sort  of  thing  for  me,"  she  thought  as  she  dressed. 

Just  for  a  moment  her  memory  began  hovering1 
round  the  door  of  a  certain  doctor  in  Harley  Street, 
but  was  recalled  with  stern  resolution. 

A  caravan  to  saunter  along  byways  of  Hampshire 
into  the  green  depths  of  forest  or  to  meander  through 
the  wide  valleys  and  high  uplands  of  Dorset  to  where 
the  sea  lapped  against  a  solitary  coast.  It  sounded 
restful.  She  did  not  want  to  return  to  Bath.  Alex- 
ander was  apt  to  ask  questions  and  if  people  got  fancy- 
ing you  were  not  well,  why  then  sometimes  you  might 
get — not  well! 

To  convict  Felicity  of  sickness  was  almost  akin  of 
convicting  her  of  sin.  A  matter  of  commiseration  in 
others,  but  of  scorn  in  herself. 

The  same  objection  which  kept  her  from  Bath  held 
good  here  in  Hampstead.  Dominic  was  much  too 
keen  sighted  and  there  was  always  an  odd  sense  of 
fear  in  being  too  long  confronted  by  the  very  real 
happiness  of  Veronica's  home.  She  never  allowed 
herself  to  face  the  fear  or  admit  it  candidly,  but  it  was 
there. 

A  caravan  and  Dorset!  Perhaps  she  might  find  a 
farm  and  later  on  Veronica  and  family  would  join 
her  and  perhaps  Adam  and  Stella.  She  would  go  to 
Harrod's  and  enquire  about  a  caravan  that  morning. 


i8o  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"It  is  the  First  Duty  of  a  Friend  to  Stand 
by  Us  a?.  Need" 


FOR  some  time  the  Prestons'  existence  continued  an 
even  course.  Stella  had  less  shopping  to  do,  but  made 
more  friends.  She  went  out  to  occasional  luncheon 
parties  and  to  picture  galleries,  and  now  and  then  to  a 
matinee.  She  did  not  see  much  of  the  regimental 
ladies,  for  Woolwich  was  a  long  way  off  but  she  saw 
more  than  Adam  realised  of  one  of  them. 

Adam  soon  became  accustomed  to  the  change  in  his 
life  and  as  novelty  presented  no  attractions  to  him, 
this  was  a  desirable  result.  He  continued  to  find  the 
rooms  all  they  wanted  for  comfort,  the  meals  suitable, 
and  Stella  something  more  than  an  agreeable  asset  to 
life.  Matrimony,  indeed,  afforded  him  just  that  spice 
of  responsibility  which  life  needed.  He  kept  his  prom- 
ise to  his  colonel  and  never  once  did  the  distance  from 
town  interfere  with  regimental  duties.  He  was  so 
scrupulous  about  this  that  Stella  was  not  too  well 
pleased,  but  when  she  suggested  they  should  live  nearer 
Woolwich  he  negatived  it  at  once.  He  said  it  wouldn't 
suit  her  and  she  would  be  dull.  He  did  not  add  a 
more  stringent  reason,  viz.,  that  Mrs.  Felton  lived  at 
Woolwich.  He  was  sorry  for  Felton,  who  was  a  good 
sort,  but  he  wasn't  going  to  have  his  wife  make  friends 
with  a  woman  like  that!  He  could  not,  of  course,  say 
this  to  Stella.  The  utmost  his  code  permitted  him  was 


FELICITY  CROFTON  181 

that  he  did  not  like  Mrs.  Felton  and  would  rather 
Stella  did  not  know  her.  Stella  acquiesced  outwardly. 
But  nevertheless  both  Stella  and  Mrs.  Felton  fre- 
quently found  themselves  side  by  side  at  a  matinee,  and 
even  lunching  at  the  same  place. 

Adam  generally  asked  Stella  how  she  amused  her- 
self during  the  day,  but  he  never  made  exhaustive  en- 
quiries or  displayed  curiosity  beyond  what  courtesy 
demanded.  He  would  have  considered  it  the  heights 
of  discourtesy  to  do  so.  Anything  she  volunteered  he 
was  pleased  to  hear.  She  did  not  volunteer  much. 

Unlike  Adam,  Stella  loved  novelty,  and  was  not  at 
all  pleased  when  it  rubbed  thin.  She  certainly  became 
a  little  bored.  Having  no  house  or  housekeeping 
cares,  she  was  compelled  to  make  her  own  employ- 
ments. She  passed  a  good  deal  of  time  in  the  Park, 
watching  the  passers-by  and  here  too  Mrs.  Felton 
sometimes  came.  She  was  undoubtedly  amusing, 
though  Stella  would  wonder  idly  at  times  over  her 
dulled  skin  and  a  certain  tremulous  movement  of  her 
hands.  She  began  to  get  very  jealous  of  Adam's 
work,  and  he  to  become  more  and  more  immersed  in 
it.  It  was  probably  the  inherited  instinct  of  a  business 
family,  rather  than  pure  personal  ambition,  which 
urged  him  on  to  master  his  profession  with  com- 
mendable thoroughness.  He  was  soon  noted  amongst 
his  seniors  as  a  man  who  would  go  far.  In  another 
year  he  could  go  up  for  the  staff  college  and  was 
already  working  for  that  end.  He  frequently  returned 
late  from  Woolwich,  and  even  when  back  at  normal 
time  he  worked  fairly  late  into  the  night,  though  he 
was  careful  not  to  let  his  work  encroach  on  what  he 
considered  Stella's  legitimate  due.  He  sat  with  her 
till  ten  and  never  spoke  of  work  at  all;  after  that  he 
retreated  into  his  own  "den,"  and  Stella  went  to  bed. 
On  Saturdays  he  would  take  her  to  a  theatre  and  on 
Sundays  they  would  motor  down  into  the  country  to 


182  FELICITY  CROFTON 

various  friends.  It  seemed  to  him  a  sane  and  pleasant 
arrangement  of  life,  and  it  certainly  never  occurred 
to  him  that  Stella  could  resent  or  find  the  shadow  of  a 
grievance  out  of  it. 

Towards  the  end  of  July,  Stella  began  to  look  white 
and  wan.  She  found  London  hot  and  airless.  He 
could  not  take  leave  just  then,  indeed  he  wanted  to 
save  up  leave  for  the  hunting  season.  He  proposed, 
therefore,  to  Stella,  either  to  take  a  country  cottage  to 
which  he  could  come  for  week-ends  or  that  she  should 
go  to  her  mother  for  a  visit. 

The  Bessingtons  were  with  Felicity  in  Dorset  and 
though  Stella  was  invited  to  join  them  she  had  re- 
fused somewhat  petulantly. 

Reduced  to  choose  between  a  cottage  with  com- 
parative solitude  or  Pieceminster,  she  chose  the  latter 
with  a  sense  of  martyrdom  which  Adam  really  did  not 
notice. 

So  he  took  her  down  to  Pieceminster  and  stayed  one 
night.  Mrs.  Forrester  laid  herself  and  her  resources 
out  to  their  full  for  the  event.  They  had  been  down 
before  once  since  their  marriage,  but  the  weather  had 
been  unpropitious  and  they  had  seen  no  one  outside 
the  Laurels  but  the  family  lawyer,  Mr.  Loftus,  who 
had  been  asked  to  dine,  and  the  rector  who  had  made 
a  point  of  calling  to  explain  his  good  lady's  inability 
to  do  so. 

Stella  intended  this  visit  to  be  more  of  a  success  or 
a  triumph.  At  least  she  intended  so,  until  the  actual 
arrival,  when  she  became  weakly  hysterical  with  fa- 
tigue. Adam  had  to  combat  a  feeling  of  exasperation 
both  with  her  and  Mrs.  Forrester,  whose  methods  he 
did  not  think  calculated  to  help  Stella  to  a  steadier 
frame  of  mind. 

He  left  the  next  morning  before  she  was  up. 

The  visit  was  not  a  success.  Pieceminster  had  its 
own  standards  of  conventions,  and  Stella  had  twice 


FELICITY  CROFTON  183 

flown  in  the  face  of  them.  The  town  called  on  Mrs. 
Adam  Preston,  but  it  maintained  its  dignified  reserve 
before  her  slightly  hostile  attitude  of  secret  triumph. 

Stella  had  never  forgotten  or  forgiven  the  treat- 
ment meted  out  to  her  in  the  past.  She  had  resented 
for  long  years  the  half-pitying  toleration  that  had 
been  eventually  accorded  her.  She  had  imagined 
slights  and  seen  scorn  even  in  small  kindnesses,  long 
after  Pieceminster  had  graciously  decided  to  pardon 
her  first  serious  breach  of  decorum.  But  her  mar- 
riage was  another  matter.  There  Pieceminster  con- 
sidered it  had  a  legitimate  grievance.  These  "hole  in 
a  corner"  weddings  reflected  a  sort  of  discredit  on  the 
town,  besides  depriving  it  of  a  possible  show,  and  the 
town  was  prepared  to  be  "standoffish"  in  consequence. 
A  conciliatory  attitude  and  a  little  tact  on  Stella's  part 
would  have  smoothed  this  over  easily,  for  without 
doubt  Mrs.  Adam  Preston  was  a  personage,  and  en- 
dued with  plenty  of  this  world's  goods  which  Stella 
Forrester  had  not  been.  But  Stella  was  neither  tact- 
ful nor  wise.  She  was  just  coldly  complacent  of  her 
own  good  fortune  and  her  own  superiority  to  Piece- 
minster and  its  needs.  People  ceased  to  call  and  be- 
hind the  Forresters'  back  they  pitied  "that  poor  Mr. 
Preston"  and  there  were  not  wanting  malicious 
tongues  to  put  doubtful  complexion  on  the  whole  af- 
fair. 

Adam  had  taken  advantage  of  Stella's  supposed 
holiday  to  devote  himself  arduously  to  the  study  of 
tactics  and  his  letters  were  brief  and  uncommunica- 
tive. Though  here  again  he  strictly  adhered  to  what 
he  considered  Stella's  due.  He  wrote  every  other  day. 
Stella  missed  at  every  turn  his  daily  little  attentions 
and  the  sense  of  possessionship  which  was  hers  in  his 
presence.  She  had  wanted  him  to  come  with  her, 
wanted  to  walk  about  Pieceminster  and  exhibit  him 
to  an  admiring  envious  circle.  Instead,  she  had  to  be 


184  FELICITY  CROFTON 

content  to  drive  about  with  her  mother  in  the  carriage 
Adam  had  arranged  to  be  at  her  disposal.  She  had 
no  more,  even  less,  to  occupy  her  mind  than  in  Lon- 
don, and  she  had  in  addition  the  hundred  fretting  little 
incidents  that  were  not  yet  so  far  behind  her  as  to  have 
lost  their  power  to  irritate.  Above  all,  she  had  her 
mother's  continual  stream  of  small  wonders  and  sur- 
mises over  their  neighbours,  over  herself,  over  Mark, 
and  in  the  latter  case  they  were  augmented  by  the  fact 
that  Mark  had  missed  a  mail!  An  unprecedented  oc- 
currence that  she  felt  could  only  foreshadow  dire 
calamity.  The  better  cushions  and  best  covers  were 
allowed  to  remain  in  evidence.  She  made  that  much 
concession  to  "Mrs.  Preston,"  but  Stella  caught  her 
surreptitiously  spreading  newspapers  over  the  chairs 
at  night  and  protecting  the  table  cover  with  a  clean 
cloth  when  she  herself  was  absent  or  likely  to  be 
absent  for  an  hour  or  two. 

It  all  jarred  on  Stella  more  than  of  old.  Her  own 
horizon  had  expanded  and  she  saw  a  real  sin  against 
life  in  this  worshipful  care  of  material  things.  It  was 
no  longer  merely  a  harmless  fad  of  her  mother's;  it 
was  the  contemptible  way  of  an  old  and  silly  woman 
for  whom  she  had  small  respect  and  no  affection. 

In  three  weeks  Stella  found  herself  hating  Piece- 
minster  more  than  she  hated  it  before  her  marriage, 
and  she  wrote  to  Adam,  saying  she  could  bear  it  no 
longer!  Adam  was  just  at  that  moment  starting  on 
manoeuvres  and  he  wrote  her  a  sensible  and  kindly 
letter,  saying  he  was  sorry  he  could  not  come  and 
make  better  arrangements  for  her,  but  that  it  was  out 
of  the  question  for  him  to  do  so  just  then.  If  she 
had  any  other  friends  she  would  like  to  go  to  she 
might  do  so  as  long  as  she  did  not  overtire  herself. 

"I  can  do  as  I  like  so  long  as  I  don't  bother  him 
and  interfere  with  his  precious  work,"  was  Stella's 
bitter  comment  on  this  letter.  She  made  no  attempt 


FELICITY  CROFTON  185 

to  find  other  friends  or  make  other  plans.  If  Adam 
did  not  mind  her  staying  on  there  and  getting  ill — and 
he  knew  she  had  never  been  well  at  Pieceminster — • 
well,  she  would  stay  on  and  if  she  got  seriously  ill,  it 
was  his  lookout.  Perhaps  he  would  be  sorry  then  he 
had  cared  more  for  his  stupid  work  than  for  her ! 

Mrs.  Forrester  was  quite  aware  of  Stella's  state  of 
mind.  She  made  her  own  explanation  of  it  and 
watched  Stella  with  furtive  anxiety  and  interest  but 
she  made  no  attempt  to  gain  her  confidence  or  even 
to  offer  her  the  reasonable  explanation  for  her  restless 
irritation  that  she  herself  had  found. 

Mrs.  Felton  wrote  to  Stella  and  commiserated  her 
on  being  shut  up  in  a  stupid  country  town.  She  said 
she  had  made  her  husband  take  her  on  manoeuvres. 
It  was  true  she  was  with  him.  The  unfortunate  Felton 
could  not  leave  her  alone  with  any  safety  for  herself 
or  his  own  peace  of  mind.  Her  letters  were  amusing 
and  rather  clever  and  Stella  welcomed  them  as  an 
echo  of  her  late  life,  which  in  comparison  with  her 
present  existence  seemed  to  her  a  whirl  of  gaiety. 
Mrs.  Forrester,  seeing  her  interested  in  a  letter,  asked 
innocently  who  it  was  from,  and  Stella  had  replied 
sharply,  it  was  from  a  friend.  Afterwards,  having  so 
little  to  think  of,  she  reconsidered  her  mother's  ques- 
tion, and  a  sombre  suspicion  grew  up  in  her  mind. 
She  knew  that  in  corresponding  with  Mrs.  Felton  she 
was  infringing  to  say  the  least,  on  Adam's  wishes. 
Wishes  which  she  was  sure  would  be  translated  into 
commands  if  he  knew  of  their  intimacy.  What  if  he 
suspected  the  same?  Had  for  instance  given  her 
mother  a  hint  with  regard  to  her  correspondence  ? 

The  utter  absurdity  of  such  a  supposition  with 
regard  to  Adam  might  have  occurred  to  her  in  the 
saner,  freer  surroundings  of  her  London  life,  but 
here,  back  in  the  old  tortuous  atmosphere,  with  its 
petty  frictions,  its  tiny  daily  deceits,  its  small  imagin- 


i86  FELICITY  CROFTON 

ing  subterfuges  and  cross  purposes,  all  the  old  evil  of 
her  perverted  imagination  was  uppermost  again.  The 
better  side  of  her  had  not  had  long  enough  ascendency 
to  hold  its  own. 

Something  in  her  manner  of  answering,  in  her  way 
of  half  concealing  the  letter,  had  caught  Mrs.  For- 
rester's attention.  She  watched  Stella  with  renewed 
interest.  Her  complete  lack  of  understanding  pre- 
vented her  from  knowing  the  harm  her  secretive 
curiosity  had  on  her  daughter. 

Adam's  next  letter  was  full  of  his  work.  He  made 
no  allusions  to  Stella's  late  complaints,  hoping  they  had 
settled  themselves.  At  the  end  he  made  one  remark, 
which  was  so  outside  his  usual  reticence  with  regard 
to  others,  that  Stella  was  at  pains  to  find  some  espe- 
cial purpose  in  it. 

"Poor  Felton,"  wrote  Adam,  "has  to  bring  his  wife 
down  here  so  as  to  keep  an  eye  on  her.  I  can't  think 
why  he  does  not  send  her  to  some  home.  It's  a  bless- 
ing they  have  no  children.  In  his  place  I  think  I  would 
kill  her  rather  than  risk  that!  Drink  in  a  wretched, 
starved,  uneducated  creature  of  the  streets  is  bad 
enough,  but  in  a  woman  with  everything  she  can  want, 
of  decent  people,  and  with  a  decent  husband  like  Fel- 
ton, it's  beyond  words.  He  ought  to  shut  her  up !" 

Which  unusual  and  fierce  expression  of  his  feelings 
was  wrung  from  him  after  a  very  unwilling  participa- 
tion in  a  desperate  scene  between  Felton  and  his  wife, 
in  which  he  had  been  forced  to  exercise  that  physical 
force  that  Felton  feared  to  use. 

This  communication  had  the  odd  and  disastrous  ef- 
fect that  there  was  born  of  it  a  fear  of  Adam.  A  fear 
of  something  she  had  never  herself  discovered  in  him. 
She  bore  with  this  new  trouble  for  a  few  days  and 
then  wrote  to  Mrs.  Crofton  and  ask  if  she  might  come 
to  her  until  Adam  should  be  ready  to  return  to  town. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  187 


Stanton's  farm  lay  in  a  hollow  of  the  rounded 
downs  where  they  sweep  down  to  the  sea  in  roll  after 
roll  of  green  billows,  ending  in  a  steep  fringe  of  gorse- 
covered  country,  mainly  inhabited  by  rabbits,  along 
which  a  disused  military  road  formed  the  only  means 
of  communication  with  the  outer  world  at  the  little 
village  of  Penard,  where  was  at  least  a  telegraph 
office  and  a  shop,  only  two  miles  distant.  The  farm 
lay  in  a  hollow  facing  southwest.  It  was  swept  by  the 
sea  air,  and  shaded  near  the  house  by  an  apple  orchard. 
Eastward,  over  the  shoulder  of  the  Downs,  was  a 
little  land-locked  bay  with  a  fringe  of  silver  sand 
and  safe  bathing.  Felicity  had  discovered  the  place 
on  her  caravan  tour.  The  caravan  now  stood  in  the 
big  wagon  shed,  for  having  found  the  place,  she  re- 
fused to  abandon  it  and  as  soon  as  London  got  too 
insufferable,  Veronica  and  Master  Christopher  joined 
her.  Dominic  took  up  some  arrears  of  holidays  and 
they  passed  happy  idle  weeks  there,  playing  golf  on 
an  improvised  links,  fishing,  with  the  few  scattered 
fishing  people  of  the  solitary  coast,  bathing  in  the  little 
bay,  and  entering  into  all  the  fierce  interests  of  farm 
life,  the  birth  of  a  calf,  the  staying  of  a  plague  of 
rats,  the  possible  failure  of  roots  after  so  dry  a  sum- 
mer, the  prospects  of  harvest,  the  troubles  of  sheep. 

Here,  in  the  peace  and  the  sun,  Felicity  did  forget 
the  vague  troubles  that  had  started  her  on  that  caravan 
journey.  Veronica  asked  nothing  better  these  hot  days 
than  to  play  about  the  sand  with  Christopher,  and 
Dominic  and  Felicity  explored  the  neighbourhood  in  a 
car,  and  would  spend  long  hours  seated  on  the  crest 
of  the  high  Down,  looking  seaward,  and  talking  of 
things  above  and  things  below,  oblivious  of  time  and 
of  original  intentions  of  a  long  walk.  Sometimes  Ve- 


1 88  FELICITY  CROFTON 

ronica  joined  them,  but  she  was  really  happier  on  the 
sands  with  her  son,  or  loitering  about  the  sunny  farm. 

"Besides,  it's  a  change  for  Dominic  to  talk  to  you 
instead  of  me/'  she  said ;  "and  it's  a  change  for  me  to 
talk  to  Mrs.  Croby — not  that  I  would  insinuate  there 
is  any  comparison  to  be  made!" 

Dominic  learnt  more  of  Madre  in  these  few  weeks 
than  he  had  known  before.  One  day,  lying  on  the 
green  turf  and  facing  the  sea,  Felicity  had  spoken  of 
her  married  life.  Spoke  with  that  slow  detached  won- 
der that  was  her  tribute  to  the  years  which  had  silently 
healed  the  wound  her  young  life  had  received. 

"I  married  before  I  understood  where  to  look  for 
happiness,"  she  said  dreamily.  "I  still  fancied  it  lay 
in  the  pocket  of  circumstances,  and  he  thought  it  lay 
in  monotony.  Also  he  thought  of  women  as  merely 
adjuncts  to  life — and  he  hated  children.  We  could 
neither  of  us  make  allowances.  I,  because  I  was  too 
young,  and  he  because  he  was  too  old !  And  again  I 
couldn't  make  the  best  of  it  as  some  girls  might  have 
done  because  I  was  looking  for  something  bigger.  I 
think  if  he  had  let  me  travel,  left  me  free  to  go  or 
come  as  I  would — to  live  indeed — I  should  have  got 
through.  But  he  couldn't.  It  wasn't  all  his  fault.  I 
couldn't  marry  him  if  we  had  met  now,  but  we  might 
have  been  good  friends.  Chiefly  what  was  wrong  was 
that  I  was  too  young." 

"Yet  you  let  Veronica  marry  at  eighteen." 

She  was  silent  a  minute. 

"Yes;  it  is  different.  Veronica  is  not  like  me — and 
it  was — you!" 

Her  voice  dropped  the  least  bit  in  the  world. 

"I  think  she  is  quite  happy,  Madre." 

She  turned  a  glowing  face  to  him. 

"My  only  shadow  is  that  she  can  never  know  her 
own  good  fortune!" 

"I  know  mine." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  189 

Her  eyes,  as  they  turned  seaward,  were  wistful. 
Was  his  fortune  so  great?  Was  there  really  no 
woman  in  the  world  who  could  have  given  him  more 
than  Veronica  could  give  him?  The  treason  of  the 
thought  scared  her,  yet  she  could  not  escape  it.  His 
next  remark  seemed  like  a  hand  of  healing  on  her 
heart. 

"I  have  Veronica — and  you !  That  means — so  long 
as  Veronica  is  happy — your  friendship!" 

He  smiled  at  her. 

"Friendship  is  the  best  gift  life  has  for  us,"  she 
said. 

He  looked  doubtful. 

"Best  gift?" 

"Love  is  life,"  she  answered  quickly.  "It  is  not 
addition,  it  is  fulfilment  of  life. 

He  refused  agreement,  since  so  many  must  live  with 
life  unfulfilled,  but  his  refusal  was  largely  based  on 
desire  to  make  her  go  on  talking. 

"And  what  have  I  done  to  deserve  both  love  and 
friendship?"  he  queried. 

Whereupon  she  answered  swiftly, 

"The  one  follows  the  other.  The  more  complete 
the  life,  the  more  abundant  the  gifts  that  follow  it." 

He  shook  his  head  unsatisfied  and  still  desirous  to 
press  her  to  deeper  reason.  He  got  it  by  insistence. 

"In  friendship  it  is  absolutely  essential  that  one  of 
the  two  should  have  working  knowledge  of  love.  The 
friendship  is  then  an  addition  to  this  one,  though  pos- 
sibly a  necessity  to  the  other." 

"Mayn't  it  be  necessary  to  both?" 

She  rose  and  held  out  her  hands  to  feel  the  cool 
breeze  fanning  them. 

"You  are  asking  for  logic  and  philosophy,  and  I  can 
only  give  you  instinctive  answers  that  I  have  never 
thought  out.  Don't  press  me,  Dominic." 

He,  too,  had  risen  and  stood  bareheaded  before  her. 


190  FELICITY  CROFTOK 

In  a  strange  way  they  seemed  to  stand  alone  on  the 
little  green  mound,  nearer  heaven  than  any  spot  in 
the  surrounding  earth,  and  the  scent  of  the  thyme  and 
gorse  rushed  over  him  with  a  new  power.  It  might 
almost  be  that  for  one  second  of  time  her  keen  per- 
ceptions had  entered  into  his,  and  lifted  them  both  to 
a  wider  and  more  sensitive  plane  of  existence. 

"I  wasn't  asking  for  logic,"  he  said  humbly.  "I 
know  better.  I  only  wanted  your  intuition.  I  can 
find  the  logic  for  it  myself." 

But  at  that  she  turned  to  him  with  a  quick  gleam  in 
her  eyes  that  was  almost  fear. 

"It's  not  worth  your  reasoning  over.  Let  us  go 
down.  Veronica  will  want  her  bathe." 

After  this  Felicity  never  spoke  of  her  own  affairs 
again,  but  spoke  often  of  Dominic's.  He  told  her  his 
aims  and  difficulties,  and  she  listened  and  advised, 
and  sometimes  ran  counter  to  his  own  conclusions. 

"Well,  what  does  Veronica  say?"  she  asked  once 
after  a  small  dispute. 

He  smiled  back  at  her.  She  did  not  know  that 
particular  smile  was  hers  alone.  That  it  presupposed 
an  infinity  of  understanding  between  them,  even  on 
the  subject  of  Veronica  herself. 

"Veronica  agrees  with  me,"  he  said  with  a  gravity 
that  should  have  counteracted  the  smile.  Whereon 
she  laughed. 

"Veronica  is  far  wiser  than  I  am.  She  knows  what 
you  want." 

"And  you  what  is  good  for  me?" 

"Possibly.  No,  I  don't!  It's  all  nonsense  our 
knowing  what's  best  for  other  people.  They  know  or 
ought  to  know  themselves." 

"Now  you  are  shelving  responsibility." 

"Why  should  I  not — from  you?" 

He  was  all  contrition  and  protested  he  had  not 
meant  to  worry  her. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  191 

Late  that  evening  he  went  for  a  solitary  walk  over 
the  Downs  and  tried  to  imagine  what  his  mother  would 
have  been  like,  and  whether  she  had  resembled  Madre 
in  any  way.  But  the  only  thing  he  could  feel  certain 
about  was  that  Madre,  dragged  to  the  South  African 
veldt  to  a  life  of  hard  work  and  solitude,  would  not 
have  died  from  sheer  misery  of  her  surroundings  and 
isolation.  And  as  there  was  nothing  profitable  in 
thinking  this  he  gave  it  up  and  decided  he  was  lucky 
to  have  found  a  mother-in-law  who — given  an  extra 
ten  years  or  so — would  have  made  him  such  an  excel- 
lent mother. 

Into  the  midst  of  all  this  blissful  content  there  came 
Stella's  letter,  not  so  much  asking  for  an  invitation, 
as  clutching  at  it. 

Veronica  sighed  and  offered  innumerable  reasons 
why  Stella  should  be  refused.  Dominic  made  no  com- 
ment. He  just  waited. 

Felicity  did  indeed  hesitate  a  whole  morning.  She 
was  very  loath  to  interrupt  their  happy  time,  but 
Stella's  letter  made  her  uneasy.  There  still  lurked 
in  her  conscience  the  belief  that  if  she  had  been  less 
awake  to  her  own  comfort  and  more  alive  to  Adam's 
interests,  the  marriage  would  never  have  taken  place, 
and  notwithstanding  its  present  peaceful  appearance 
Felicity  never  deluded  herself  into  imagining  it  was 
the  sort  of  marriage  Adam  ought  to  have  made.  In 
the  end  Stella  was  invited. 

Dominic  and  family  had  after  all  only  another  week 
of  holiday  left  them.  Veronica  would  not  hear  of  his 
returning  to  town  without  her,  though  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible that  Stella's  coming  had  something  to  do  with 
this.  Felicity  was  at  all  events  to  stay  on  till  the  mid- 
dle of  September.  The  manoeuvres  would  be  over  by 
then,  and  perhaps  Adam  might  be  able  to  fetch  Stella 
himself, 


192  FELICITY  CROFTON 


m 

Felicity,  like  Mrs.  Forrester,  made  her  own  diag- 
nosis of  what  was  the  matter  with  Stella,  but  unlike 
Mrs.  Forrester  she  at  once  approached  Stella  on  the 
subject  as  one  of  congratulation  and  future  joy.  To 
her  horror  she  found  her  remarks  not  only  a  revela- 
tion to  her  visitor  but  the  cause  of  the  utmost  dismay. 
Stella  protested  that  she  did  not  in  the  least  want  a 
child  and  did  not  suppose  that  Adam  did  either.  In 
fact,  she  was  sure  he  didn't !  He  thought  people  lucky 
who  hadn't  any. 

At  the  end  of  ten  days,  by  dint  of  great  patience 
and  of  unceasing  pity  and  a  quiet  logical  treatment  of 
the  situation,  she  had  brought  Stella  to  a  more  sensible 
frame  of  mind.  At  least,  to  resignation  of  coming 
events,  and  since  Stella  entirely  refused  to  mention 
the  matter  to  Adam,  she  wrote  herself  with  Stella's 
grudging  permission,  to  tell  him. 

As  Felicity  expected,  Adam  wrote  back  at  once  ex- 
pressing his  very  real  delight  and  begging  Madre  be 
with  Stella  all  she  could.  "If  I  had  known  I  don't 
think  I  would  have  let  her  go  to  Pieceminster,"  he  said 
frankly.  "Mrs.  Forrester  does  not  seem  to  me  a  very 
suitable  person  to  be  with  Stella  when  she  is  naturally 
rather  seedy  and  nervous,"  in  which  sentiment  Felicity 
was  one  with  him! 

Adam  wrote  also  to  Stella,  but  she  kept  silence  as 
to  what  he  said,  though  she  made  no  more  remarks  as 
to  his  dislike  to  a  child. 

It  was  on  Felicity's  advice  that  Adam  agreed  to 
keep  on  the  same  rooms  and  let  Stella  stay  in  town. 
He  had  thought  it  better  for  her  to  be  in  the  country, 
but  Felicity  firmly  resisted  this  and  by  the  end  of  Sep- 
tember she  installed  Stella  again  at  107  Marble  Arch 
in  a  reasonably  satisfied  frame  of  mind  and  went  away 


FELICITY  CROFTON  193 

to  pay  an  overdue  visit  to  some  friends  in  Yorkshire, 
whose  daughter  was  about  to  celebrate  her  "coming 
out." 

It  was  a  large  and  rather  noisy  party  of  young  peo- 
ple, and  whether  it  was  that  her  late  struggles  with 
Stella  had  fatigued  her  more  than  she  had  known  or 
whether  that  insidious  trouble  that  her  pleasant  idle 
summer  had  momentarily  put  to  rest  saw  fit  to  reassert 
itself,  but  Felicity  for  the  first  time  did  not  enter  into 
the  prevailing  gaiety  with  her  usual  zest.  At  first 
no  one  noticed  it.  When  she  was  not  with  one  set 
of  the  party,  they  took  it  for  granted  she  was  with  the 
other,  and  it  was  some  time  before  they  discovered 
she  was  very  often  in  her  room  in  solitary  state, 
"writing  letters,"  she  would  say,  but  she  posted  very 
few.  The  youthful  members  of  the  party  thought  her 
very  serious  and  complained,  whereupon  she  made 
brave  efforts  to  cancel  the  accusation.  The  elders 
thought  her  singularly  absentminded  and  thoughtful 
and  said  amongst  themselves,  regretfully,  that  even 
Felicity  Crofton  was  getting  older!  The  trouble  was 
that  Felicity  felt  in  herself  not  an  atom  older.  Her 
will  to  share  and  enjoy  life  was  as  strong  as  ever.  She 
continued  to  tell  herself  it  was  only  a  passing  fatigue, 
since  it  had  disappeared  so  completely  in  the  summer. 
It  could  not  really  be  anything  so  serious  as  she  had 
been  once  warned.  It  might  indeed  be  only  nerves. 
The  word  applied  to  herself  filled  her  with  fine 
scorn. 

Her  thoughts  turned  wistfully  to  southern  climes 
when  winter  loomed  ahead,  but  she  went  down  to 
Bath  and  stayed  there  quietly,  much  to  her  brother's 
surprise  and  content.  She  also  hired  a  car  and  used  it 
more  than  she  expected  to  do. 

At  this  juncture,  two  godchildren  of  hers,  the 
Maughans,  were  left  motherless.  She  went  to  their 
rescue  for  a  few  weeks  till  an  aunt  could  be  installed 


194  FELICITY  CROFTON 

and  while  there  with  them,  made  a  plan  which  filled 
her  and  all  concerned  with  much  satisfaction. 

In  the  early  spring  she  was  to  go  out  to  Bavano, 
take  a  villa  there,  and  take  in  charge,  not  only  these 
two  godchildren  but  three  other  girls.  The  families 
concerned  and  Madre  herself  were  soon  making  plans 
for  a  life  of  pleasant  days  and  under  the  spell  of  it 
Felicity's  elastic  vitality  welled  up  again  and  she  be- 
came enthusiastic. 

Both  Bessington  and  Veronica  were  too  pleased  to 
find  her  taking  a  joy  in  movement  again  and  in  the 
future  to  grudge  her  proposed  absence  from  England, 
though  Bessington  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  per- 
suade her  to  take  a  second  in  command,  in  case  the 
party  proved  too  much  for  one  to  handle.  Felicity 
scoffed  at  him. 

"No  divided  authority!"  she  insisted.  "I  can  man- 
age my  party  and  I  mean  to  enjoy  it.  It's  the  nicest 
thing  I  have  thought  of  since  you  took  Veronica  away, 
and  I  can't  think  why  I  haven't  done  it  before." 

They  were  to  go  in  the  middle  of  April.  Felicity 
arranged  to  spend  the  intermediate  time  at  Bath ;  per- 
haps she  felt  it  would  be  easier  to  do  nothing  there 
than  in  London.  She  was  still  content  with  that  nega- 
tive programme,  though  of  course  matters  would  be 
very  different  once  she  was  in  Bavano !  At  the  end  of 
February  this  quiet  interlude  was  broken  into  by  a 
letter  from  Adam.  Dimly  she  perceived  that  she  had 
been  waiting  for  it.  That  she  had  known  at  the  back 
of  her  mind  it  would  come,  and  that  she  was  ready 
and  prepared  to  act. 

"Dear  Madre :"  (began  the  letter)  "Could  you  pos- 
sibly come  and  stay  with  us  awhile?  Stella  ought  to 
have  some  one  with  her  and  I  do  not  want  to  ask  her 
mother  if  you  are  available.  Stella  is,  on  the  whole, 
keeping  well,  but  lately  she  has  been  depressed  and  I 
am  uneasy  at  leaving  her  so  long  alone  each  day.  The 


FELICITY  CROFTON  195 

exam  is  so  near  that  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  be  with 
her  as  much  as  I  should  like.  Still  even  if  I  were  free 
it  would  be  better  for  her  to  have  a  woman  round. 
The  baby  is  not  expected  till  the  beginning  of  April. 
It  would  mean  an  awful  lot  to  me  if  you  could  take 
charge  till  then.  My  cousin,  Jane  Mitchen,  would 
come  no  doubt,  but  she  isn't  a  married  woman  and 
Stella  doesn't  know  her  so  well  as  she  knows  you. 
It's  very  important  that  she  should  be  kept  cheerful 
and  made  to  take  exercise  and  have  the  right  people 
about  her  and  no  one  could  be  so  right  as  you,  if  it's 
possibly  to  fit  it  in  with  your  plans.  If  you  can  come 
on  Wednesday  I  will  meet  you  by  the  five-fifteen  train. 

Yours  ever,  ADAM." 

She  went,  of  course,  on  the  day  and  by  the  train 
mentioned,  with  a  fine  disregard  to  her  own  arrange- 
ments and  to  her  brother's  great  discomforture.  When 
he  remonstrated  over  what  he  called  Adam's  out- 
rageous egoism  that  imagined  all  the  world's  interest 
centred  on  his  wife  and  probable  son,  Felicity  said 
steadily, 

"I  failed  Adam  once.  I  hope  I  shall  never  fail  him 
again.  They  are  young,  Alexander,  and  we  are  old. 
Surely  it's  a  very  little  thing  for  us  to  put  our  small 
plans  aside  to  help  them  on?" 

Alexander  was  too  dismayed  by  one  phrase  in  her 
speech  to  argue  over  this  outrageous  doctrine. 

"Old!  Felicity!"  he  gasped.  "I'm  old  if  you  like, 
but  you  are  a  girl." 

"I'm  forty-two,"  she  answered,  looking  at  him  with 
brave  eyes  that  smiled.  "Twenty-two  years  older  than 
Veronica,  nineteen  years  older  than  Adam,  and  twelve 
years  older  than  Dominic." 

Her  brother  looked  away  quickly.  He  had  never 
quite  got  over  his  disappointment  there,  and  he  re- 
sented any  reminder  of  its  impossibility. 

"Nonsense,  nonsense,"  he  repeated  testily.     "You 


196  FELICITY  CROFTON 

are  as  old  as  you  feel  or  look.  To  me  you  are  a  child 
and  I  won't  have  you  call  yourself  old.  It's  prepos- 
terous and  it  makes  me  out  a  Methuselah." 

She  only  laughed  and  smoothed  his  still  ample  grey 
hair. 

"I  don't  feel  old.  I  am  only  facing  facts.  And 
anyhow  I  regard  Adam  as  my  own  boy,  and  I  shall 
stay  and  see  him  and  Stella  through  this,  even  if  it 
means  putting  off  our  start  a  week.  You  wouldn't 
mind  it  if  he  were  your  nephew  really." 

"He  isn't  Adam's  a  good  fellow  and  is  going  to 
reflect  credit  on  me,  but  why  do  you  care  for  him  so 
much?" 

She  frowned  in  a  puzzled  way.  There  were  a  good 
many  reasons,  but  none  of  them  conclusive. 

"I  think  firstly  and  mostly  because  he  is  so  beauti^ 
ful." 

He  pretended  to  be  shocked  and  called  her  a  pagan, 
whereon  she  nodded  her  head. 

"Perhaps  I  am,  in  a  sense,  but  I  always  see  Spirit 
in  matter.  Is  that  paganism?" 

"It's  the  antithesis,"  he  grumbled.  "Well,  I  sup- 
pose you  will  go.  I  daresay  Adam's  absurd  child  will 
be  an  ugly  little  girl  and  then  where  will  you  be?" 

Felicity  did  not  disclose  to  Alexander  the  real  sense 
of  pleasure  she  felt  that  Adam  should  turn  to  her  so 
naturally  for  assistance ;  should  indeed  almost  demand 
it  as  a  right!  She  might  well  have  been  his  mother 
from  the  calm  way  he  accepted  her  response  to  his 
request 

He  met  her  at  the  station  as  arranged,  but  was  not 
very  communicative.  Felicity  learnt  more  from  his 
looks  than  his  speech.  It  was  not  till  they  were  nearly 
at  the  house  that  he  brought  himself  to  say  what  he 
clearly  had  meant  to  say  all  along. 

"I  don't  want  Stella  to  meet  or  see  Mrs.  Felton," 
he  jerked  out  suddenly.  "I  don't  suppose  she  will, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  197 

because  we  have  had  rather  a  row  over  it.  I  daresay 
is  wasn't  Stella's  fault.  But  I  can't  let  her  be  friends 
with  that  sort  of  woman,  especially  just  now." 

"What's  the  matter  with  her?" 

"Drink,"  returned  Adam  curtly,  and  then  with  an 
air  of  relief  he  added,  "It's  all  settled  now,  but  it  rather 
upset  Stella  at  the  time,  and  I  only  warned  you  because 
Mrs.  Felton  might  try  to  call.  He  ought  to  put  her 
in  a  home." 

"Poor  thing,"  sighed  Felicity  pityingly.  "Can't  any- 
thing be  done?" 

Adam  shook  his  head.  He  was  not  without  pity 
himself,  but  considered  his  first  duty  was  to  safeguard 
his  wife.  Pelton  must  manage  his  own  affairs. 

They  arrived  at  107  Marble  Arch  to  find  the  sitting- 
room  in  darkness,  though  some  crushed-up  cushions 
suggested  recent  occupation.  There  was  no  sign  of 
books  or  work  or  any  amusement  and  Adam  frowned 
a  little  as  he  turned  up  the  light. 

Stella  entered  almost  immediately.  She  greeted 
Felicity  with  cordiality  and  Adam  with  what  looked 
to  Felicity  very  much  like  conciliation.  There  was  a 
little  trace  of  effort  in  her  voice,  and  from  time  to  time 
she  glanced  at  Adam  across  the  tea  tray  in  a  sideway 
manner  that  worried  Felicity.  The  longer  she  looked 
at  Stella  the  more  uneasy  she  became.  There  was  an 
odd  brightness  in  her  eyes  that  went  ill  with  the  pallor 
of  her  face.  Still  her  animation  was  quite  marked. 
She  was  even  witty  and  Adam  was  plainly  pleased 
and  showed  her  a  marked  tenderness  that  had  no 
effect  in  lessening  the  watch  she  kept  on  him. 

When  tea  was  over  he  got  up  and  said  that  "now 
Stella  had  some  one  with  her  he  would  go  and  work." 

"But  I  don't  mind  being  alone,  Adam,"  she  said. 
"I'm  used  to  it." 

He  laughed  and  remarked  that  was  all  over  now  and 
left  them. 


198  FELICITY  CROFTON 

When  they  were  alone  Stella  first  talked  feverishly 
and  seemed  to  keep  a  watch  on  the  door.  Presently 
she  said  abruptly,  in  a  low  voice: 

"You  see  how  it  is?  I  hardly  ever  see  him.  He 
thinks  of  nothing  but  his  work." 

"I  expect  he  has  been  giving  you  more  time  than  he 
should  spare  with  the  exam  ahead," 

"I  hate  it!"  Her  voice  lost  its  animation  and  be- 
came dull  and  lifeless. 

Felicity  refrained  from  argument  and  made  an  ef- 
fort to  turn  the  conversation  into  other  channels,  but 
Stella  returned  to  the  subject  again  and  again,  and 
behind  all  her  foolish  words  there  lurked  that  strange, 
half-veiled  fear  of  her  husband  that  shocked  Felicity 
as  something  uncanny  and  phantastical. 

At  dinner-time  she  made  some  effort  to  put  this  fear 
away,  and  again  talked  well  and  was  amusing.  When 
Adam  bade  Felicity  good-night  (Stella  had  long  since 
gone  to  bed),  he  said: 

"I  am  most  frightfully  obliged  to  you  for  coming, 
Madre.  Stella  looks  better  already.  She  got  so 
moped  alone." 

It  was  not  till  she  was  courting  sleep  that  Felicity 
had  a  sharp  warning  that  the  journey,  the  long  day 
and  the  anxiety  had  taken  unexpected  toll  of  her 
strength  and  that  if  Stella  was  likely  to  benefit  from 
her  visit  she  herself  was  most  likely  to  reap  a  bad 
harvest.  . 

Nevertheless  she  was  down  in  time  to  see  Adam  off 
next  morning.  And  he  told  her  he  felt  like  another 
man  now  she  was  in  charge. 

"Of  course  I  shall  stay,"  she  murmured  to  herself, 
as  she  watched  him  start,  "and,  after  all,  there  are  no 
stairs  here  and  there  are  at  Bath." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  199 


IV 

Felicity  had  undertaken  many  difficult  tasks  in  her 
life,  but  at  the  end  of  a  week  she  felt  she  had  never 
put  her  hand  to  so  formidable  a  one  as  the  care  of 
Adam's  wife.  The  little  fact  of  a  bedroom  on  the 
ground  floor  and  no  stairs  was  a  poor  set-off  against 
the  continuous  mental  strain  of  contending  with 
Stella's  whims.  Once  Felicity  was  installed,  Stella 
flung  the  whole  responsibility  of  her  well-being  on 
her  and  declined  to  recognise  any  obligation  on  her 
part  to  restrain  her  own  caprices.  It  is  true  she  did 
not  fight  very  hard  for  her  own  ends.  She  generally 
accepted  Felicity's  ruling  with  the  resignation  she 
considered  due  to  circumstances.  It  was  really  easier 
to  leave  the  direction  of  the  day  in  another's  hand  than 
decide  for  herself;  so  even  though  she  might  wish  to 
sleep  when  she  should  walk,  go  out  when  she  should 
lie  down,  eat  strange  things  when  a  plain  diet  was  the 
order  of  the  day,  discuss  clothes  when  she  should  be 
resting,  she  as  a  rule  did  none  of  these  things,  and  yet 
continued  to  find  life  tolerable.  But  it  meant  per- 
petual wear  and  tear  to  Felicity,  to  which  was  coupled 
an  unseen  and  incessant  care  for  Adam  himself — 
Adam,  who  with  his  really  hard  work  needed  good 
food,  cheerful  company,  and  no  worries  in  his  home. 
Felicity  saw  that  his  needs  were  granted  him.  He 
took  to  spending  two  nights  a  week  at  Woolwich,  and 
reverted  to  his  old  habit  of  retreating  to  his  den  as 
soon  as  dinner  was  over  and  the  barest  courtesy  per- 
mitted him.  A  visit  to  Stella  in  the  morning  before 
leaving,  and  two  hours  with  them  in  the  evening,  in- 
cluding dinner,  was  practically  all  they  saw  of  him, 
but  he  made  it  apparent  in  that  time  that  his  interest 
in  his  wife  was  not  on  a  par  with  the  shortness  of 
their  interviews.  Stella  had  indeed  become  to  him 


200  FELICITY  CROFTON 

something  more  than  an  exciting  possession,  or  even 
a  fragile  treasure  that  needed  his  protection  from  the 
rough  ways  of  a  discourteous  world.  She  was  to  be 
the  mother  of  his  child  and  nothing  that  was  obtain- 
able for  the  well-being  of  that  child  and  herself  must 
be  withheld  from  her. 

He  faced  the  problem  of  fatherhood  with  a  frank- 
ness that  Felicity  found  admirable  and  a  little  pathetic. 
She  realised  it  would  be  the  strongest  passion  in  his 
life. 

He  was  firm  on  the  subject  of  protecting  Stella 
from  her  mother. 

"Stella's  inclined  to  fancies,  herself,"  he  said.  "I 
don't  want  a  faddy  child.  Get  her  to  take  plenty  of 
exercise,  Madre,  and  to  take  up  some  hobby.  Doesn't 
she  like  sewing?" 

Felicity  kept  back  a  smile. 

"She  can  sew." 

"Well,  she  ought  to  keep  amused.  I  am  not  wor- 
ried, though,  now  you  are  here.  You  are  a  brick, 
Madre!" 

Madre  was  humbly  grateful  for  his  gratitude. 

She  kept  her  promise.  As  far  as  lay  in  her  power, 
Adam  should  have  the  healthy  normal  offspring  he 
wanted,  but  she  had  her  misgivings  over  it.  Stella 
was  so  entirely  a  person  of  moods. 

What  troubled  Felicity  was  not  the  moods — she 
made  generous  allowance  for  them — but  behind  them 
lay  something  furtive  and  hidden,  that  Felicity  alter- 
jiately  feared  to  explore  and  feared  to  ignore.  Stella 
protested  often  her  thankfulness  at  Felicity's  presence, 
but  the  latter  caught  a  note  of  insincerity  in  the  words 
which  would  alternate  with  a  pathetic  clinging  to  her 
companion  and  a  childish  fear  of  being  left  alone. 

Always  there  was  that  odd  sense  of  watch  on  Adam. 
Sometimes  she  would  sit  through  dinner,  morose  and 
irritable  or  pathetically  tired  and  languid,  then  occa- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  201 

sionally  these  fits  would  be  dispersed  by  what  Felicity 
first  thought  was  a  valiant  effort  to  conquer  them.  At 
such  times  Stella  would  be  amazingly  witty  and  amus- 
ing, but  the  intermittent  successes  were  always  suc- 
ceeded by  a  fit  of  depression  as  soon  as  Adam  had 
gone. 

One  evening,  about  an  hour  before  dinner,  Felicity 
went  to  her  room  and  found  her  indulging  in  the  for- 
bidden luxury  of  strong  black  coffee.  Stella  sulked 
for  fifteen  minutes  after  Felicity's  firm  dismissal  of 
the  coffee,  and  then  was  seized  with  remorse  and  exas- 
perating penitence.  Declared  she  had  felt  abnormally 
sleepy  and  wanted  to  be  awake  when  Adam  returned. 
Felicity  pointed  out  that  Adam  would  rather  have  her 
sleepy  than  taking  forbidden  things. 

Stella's  eyes  flickered  strangely. 

"You  don't  know,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  "If  I 
were  sleepy  and  stupid,  Adam  might  get  silly  ideas 
into  his  head.  He  wouldn't  be  reasonable.  He'd  be 
angry,  and  I  should  be  frightened.  Adam  could  be 
awful  if  he  were  really  angry." 

"You  and  I  have  never  seen  him  so,"  Felicity  re- 
minded her.  "And  certainly  he  would  never  be  angry 
without  a  reason.  You  are  the  last  person  in  the 
world  to  be  afraid  of  him." 

Yet  there  was  very  real  fear  in  the  glance  that  Stella 
flung  towards  the  door. 

"I  am  afraid,"  she  persisted;  "and  I  have  seen  him 
angry.  He  was  angry  about  Mrs.  Felton." 

Felicity,  remembering  Adam's  remarks  on  the  sub- 
ject, tried  to  turn  the  directions  of  Stella's  thoughts. 

"Well,  obey  orders,  and  don't  take  black  coffee  and 
don't  let  your  imagination  run  away  with  you,"  she 
said  cheerfully.  "Are  you  going  to  change  your 
dress?" 

"I  should  die  if  he  were  really  angry  with  me," 
Stella  muttered  unheedingly. 


202  FELICITY  CROFTON 

Felicity  insisted  on  the  subject  of  dress,  and  Stella 
was  induced  to  change.  The  incident  left  an  unpleas- 
ant impression  on  Felicity's  mind.  She  found  herself 
alert  to  catch  sight  of  this  extraordinary  attitude  of 
Stella's  towards  her  husband  that  seemed  founded  on 
nothing  substantial. 

Yet  her  moods  were  not  invariably  contrary.  When 
not  engrossed  in  herself  she  was  interesting,  and  at 
times  betrayed  an  uncanny  insight  into  other  people's 
motives  that  took  Felicity  aback.  Also  she  had  an 
amusing  faculty  for  endowing  material  things  with 
personalities.  She  cared  for  things  far  more  than  she 
cared  for  people,  and  she  had  a  precise  knowledge  of 
what  she  wanted  that  was  trying  to  shopkeepers  used 
to  the  facile  nature  of  the  majority  of  shoppers.  She 
would  show  remarkable  intuition  in  her  shopping, 
electing  perfectly  unlikely  places  to  unearth  her  needs, 
and  invariably  succeeding.  Colour  was  a  passion  with 
her,  and  she  liked  it  to  suit  her  moods.  Beauty  in 
any  form  excited  her  oddly  and  her  passionate  admira- 
tion for  her  husband  had  root  in  his  physical  perfec- 
tions rather  thau  his  character.  But  the  admiration 
did  form  a  link  between  her  and  Felicity. 

Her  occasional  brilliancy  at  dinner  seemed  closely 
connected  with  the  length  of  her  rest  in  the  afternoon, 
and  in  these  flashes  of  intellectualism  Felicity  discov- 
ered she  was  better  read  than  she  had  imagined,  at 
least  in  modern  literature. 

At  such  times  Adam,  who  quite  frequently  under- 
stood nothing  of  what  she  was  saying,  could  not  avoid 
displaying  a  little  hint  of  pride  to  the  visitor,  as  if  he 
were  inviting  her  to  own  he  really  was  not  quite  such 
a  fool  as  she  had  thought  in  selecting  his  wife.  He, 
indeed,  went  so  far  as  to  express  himself  on  the  sub- 
ject one  day  when  alone  with  Madre. 

"Stella  has  all  the  sorts  of  brains  I  haven't,"  he  re- 
marked ;  "so  it  ought  to  turn  out  very  well." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  203 

His  thoughts,  even  in  consideration  of  Stella's  brain 
power,  never  wandered  long  from  the  question  of  his 
prospective  fatherhood. 


One  evening,  when  Adam  was  prepared  to  go  off  to 
work  rather  earlier  than  usual,  Stella  betrayed  her 
annoyance  openly.  She  turned  away  her  head  from 
his  good-night  caress  and  said  petulantly : 

"You  are  glad  of  a  pretence  to  go." 

Adam  laughed.  "I  should  be  glad  of  a  pretence  to 
stay." 

"Why  should  he  want  a  pretence?"  complained 
Stella,  when  he  had  gone. 

"I  expect  if  you  were  not  well,  or  alone,  his  work 
would  go  to  the  wall." 

"I'm  not  well !"  she  retorted  sharply. 

"Yes,  you  are!  To  be  ill  is  to  be  abnormal,  and 
there's  nothing  abnormal  in  your  feeling  tired  to- 
night." 

"Well,  it's  equivalent  to  saying  he  doesn't  care  for 
me  unless  something  is  the  matter." 

Some  one  besides  Stella  was  tired  that  night  before 
Stella's  fatigue  took  her  to  bed.  It  was  a  relief  to 
put  the  lights  low,  to  open  the  windows  wide  to  admit 
the  air  for  which  she  craved.  The  rattle  and  roar 
of  the  streets  outside  was  better  than  the  laden  still- 
ness of  the  warm  room.  Her  mind  revolved  uneasily 
over  her  own  hasty  definition  of  illness.  It  was,  of 
course,  hasty  and  faulty,  yet  in  a  dimly  and  unwilling 
way  she  began  to  fit  it  to  conditions  which  seemed 
remotely  concerned  with  her  own  personality. 

One  cold,  sunless  day  Stella  complained  of  head- 
ache, and  nothing  would  induce  her  to  go  out,  but  she 
was  most  anxious  that  Felicity  should  do  so,  and  pro- 
posed that  she  should  go  up  to  Hampstead  to  see  Ve- 


204  FELICITY  CROFTON 

ronica.  Felicity  hesitated  a  while.  She  really  did 
want  to  see  her  daughter,  but  she  did  not  like  leaving 
Stella  so  long  alone.  However,  in  the  end,  Stella 
prevailed.  She  promised  to  lie  down  and  rest  and 
Felicity  left  her  comfortably  installed  on  the  sofa  with 
instructions  that  she  was  not  to  be  disturbed  till  tea 
time  unless  she  rang. 

Felicity  went  to  Hampstead  and  had  a  happy  after- 
noon with  Veronica,  who  lodged  vigorous  objections 
to  her  mother's  heartwhole  abandonment  of  herself  to 
the  needs  of  the  Preston  menage.  She  was  even  more 
exasperated  with  Adam  than  Alexander  had  been  and 
less  careful  to  say  so,  but  Felicity  only  answered 
mildly : 

"Well,  my  dear,  if  you  had  really  wanted  me  for 
any  reason  it  would  have  been  another  matter." 

"We  always  want  you,"  returned  Veronica 
promptly. 

"It's  nice  to  be  wanted." 

"It's  a  pleasure  in  which  you  actually  luxuriate. 
The  best  sort  of  Lenten  penance  for  you  would  be 
to  make  yourself  generally  unpopular." 

"But  I  don't  keep  Lent,"  her  mother  protested. 

"That,  of  course,  is  deplorable.  Unselfish  people 
ought  to  have  a  close  time  to  give  others  a  chance." 

"I'm  not  unselfish.  Not  more  than  other  peo- 
ple." 

"You  are.    Dominic  says  so." 

"That  is  final,  of  course." 

"Of  course!"  Veronica  opened  her  blue  eyes  in 
surprise.  "I  thought  you  knew  better  than  any  one 
else  how  clever  he  was." 

"I  am  not  sure  I  have  ever  thought  about  his  clever- 
ness." 

"You  should  certainly  keep  Lent  to  give  yourself 
time  to  study  other  people's  virtues." 

"Is  cleverness  a  virtue?"  inquired  Felicity  meekly. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  205 

"In  Dominic." 

"Why  this  enthusiasm  for  Lent?" 

"We  went  to  church  last  Sunday.  I  really  forget 
why.  Dominic  had  no  one  to  golf  with,  or  else  I  had 
no  letters  to  write,  or  we  were  both  cross — I  think  it 
must  have  been  that.  So  we  went  because,  as  we 
couldn't  possibly  be  crosser,  we  were  bound  to  be  made 
more  amiable.  We  came  home  in  an  angelic  frame  of 
mind.  The  sermon  was  all  about  Lent,  and  the 
preacher  was  so  young  that  one  wondered  he  had  had 
time  to  learn  so  much.  I  nearly  made  up  my  mind  to 
do  without  jam,  and  Dominic  to  do  without  a  pipe — 
I  believe  he  prefers  cigarettes — but  we  got  comman3 
of  our  senses  before  we  reached  home.  I  don't  think 
young  men  like  that,  with  persuasive  tongues  and  good 
looks,  ought  to  be  allowed  to  stand  up  there  and 
make  people  in  the  mood  to  make  fools  of  them- 
selves." 

"Oh,  my  dear  child!"  laughed  Felicity.  "All  the 
same  it  is  not  seemly  for  you  to  laugh  at  people  who 
are  in  earnest" 

Veronica  objected  that  she  did  not  know  if  he  were 
in  earnest  or  not. 

"He  might  just  be  trying  to  find  out  how  much  he 
could  sway  our  unstable  minds.  Let  us  forget  him. 
It  depresses  me,  Madre.  Patricia  Masters  has  offered 
to  take  in  Christopher  and  Nurse  in  her  own  nurs- 
ery if  Dominic  can  get  away  in  April  so  we  can  go 
abroad." 

It  sounded  an  ideal  arrangement.  Patricia's  own 
babies  wanted  nothing  that  affection  and  money  could 
obtain  for  them,  and  Stormly,  despite  its  proximity 
to  the  Black  Country,  was  healthy  enough. 

Felicity  looked  at  the  clock  and  said  she  must  go. 
She  said  it  with  evident  reluctance,  which  Veronica 
was  not  slow  to  point  out  to  her  as  a  reason  for  longer 
absence,  but  Felicity  was  firm.  She  said  she  felt 


206  FELICITY  CROFTON 

much  refreshed,  and  promised  to  come  again  as  soon 
as  she  could. 

All  the  way  back  she  kept  her  mind  as  much  as 
possible  on  Veronica  and  her  nonsense.  Her  gaiety 
had  been  a  good  tonic  after  Stella's  mournful  languor 
or  rather  stinging  wit.  She  began  to  count  up  the 
weeks  till  she  could  start  for  Bavano  and  to  reckon 
up  the  chance  of  Dominic  and  Veronica  ending  up 
their  trip  with  her  there.  It  would  be  new  ground 
for  Dominic  and  she  longed  to  show  it  him. 

Behind  each  thought  and  persistently  dragging  at 
her  consciousness  was  a  desire  to  get  back  to  Stella, 
and  a  vague  uneasiness  to  which  she  would  not  suc- 
cumb. Even  when  she  arrived  and  found  the  room 
deserted  and  the  fire  out  she  refused  to  allow  her  mind 
to  leap  to  conclusions.  She  rang  the  bell  for  the 
maid  to  relight  the  fire,  took  off  her  things  and  then 
went  to  the  door  of  Stella's  room  and  knocked  softly. 
There  was  no  answer  and  a  maid  passing  looked  at 
her  oddly  as  if  she  expected  to  be  questioned.  Felicity 
turned  the  handle  and  went  in. 

Stella  was  lying  on  the  bed  in  a  rest  gown  with 
loose  sleeves.  She  seemed  asleep  and  Felicity  turned 
up  the  shaded  light  and  looked  at  her. 

It  was  heavy  sleep,  yet  the  eyes  were  not  quite 
closed.  There  was  something  almost  uncanny  in  her 
repose.  It  was  so  complete,  so  deep,  so  arresting. 
Felicity  bent  over  her  and  touched  her  hand  that  lay 
on  the  gorgeous  Japanese  coverlet. 

"Stella!"  she  called  firmly. 

There  was  not  so  much  as  the  flicker  of  an  eyelid. 
She  pushed  up  the  wide  sleeve  on  the  white  arm,  tak- 
ing no  precautions  now  not  to  rouse  the  sleeping  girl. 
There,  on  the  forearm,  were  three  or  four  little  black 
marks.  Felicity  let  the  sleeve  fall  and  looked  round 
the  room.  There  was  a  glass  of  water  on  the  table 
near  the  bed  and  a  little  china  saucer — nothing  else. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  207 

At  least  nothing  that  she  was  looking  for.  She  put 
her  hand  under  the  pillows  and  felt  something,  drew 
it  out  and  carried  it  to  the  light. 

A  hypodermic  syringe  and  a  small  bottle  of  minute 
tablets,  labelled :  "Morphine.  One  to  the  dose." 

Felicity  put  the  things  down  and  stood  gazing  at  the 
senseless  form.  Wave  after  wave  of  explanations  and 
understandings  swept  over  her.  This,  then,  was  what 
Mark  had  known  and  feared ;  this,  then,  was  the  secret 
of  that  nervous  illness,  of  the  visit  to  the  German 
doctor,  and  of  Mark's  letters.  Stella  had  deceived 
her,  though  that  troubled  her  little.  She  could  not 
even  think  of  Stella  for  the  moment.  Her  whole 
thought  was  for  Adam  and  for  Adam's  child.  Her 
whole  being  was  active  towards  protection.  It  was  as 
if  she  must  spread  quivering  wings  between  them  and 
disaster.  Then  sharply  she  was  aware  that  Stella  her- 
self must  lie  under  that  winged  love.  Not  from  her 
but  with  her  must  this  small  household  of  helpless, 
blundering  souls  be  saved  from  the  mastery  of  cir- 
cumstance. 

She  went  nearer  the  insensible  form  and  was  no 
longer  repulsed  by  it.  There  was  an  indolent  grace  in 
Stella's  attitude  of  complete  repose,  and  Felicity  redis- 
covered that  the  girl  was  beautiful  and  that  her  beauty 
showed  even  through  the  sombre  depths  of  her  ill- 
found  sleep.  It  was  to  an  understanding  of  Adam 
rather  than  Stella  that  she  came,  and  it  was  with  a 
little  shock  of  surprise.  She  had  only  thought  of 
the  woman  within,  but  Adam — she  knew  it  now — had, 
indeed,  been  from  the  first  aware  only  of  the  woman 
without.  That  Stella's  rather  exotic  beauty  should 
have  touched  him  was  one  of  the  mysteries  that  no 
woman  could  fathom,  but  so  it  was,  and  therefore  it 
was  clear  to  Felicity  that  the  inner  woman,  whom  he 
must  know  some  day,  must  be  dragged  back  to  the 
pedestal  on  which  Adam  fondly  imagined  she  dwelt, 


208  FELICITY  CROFTON 

Stella's  eyes  opened  slowly,  seeing  nothing;  then 
a  dull  discontent  crept  into  them.  She  moved  her 
arm.  Her  hand  stole  towards  the  pillow,  and  stopped 
as  she  became  conscious  of  Felicity's  presence.  She 
felt  fretfully  annoyed  at  it.  Her  eyes  closed  again. 

"It's  past  tea  time,  Stella.  Won't  you  wake?"  said 
Felicity  gently. 

She  herself  wanted  air,  wanted  it  badly.  She  felt 
the  room  hot  and  close  and  pulled  the  curtains  aside 
and  opened  the  windows.  The  cold  evening  air  rushed 
in,  swept  into  corners,  stirred  the  curtains,  freshened 
the  room. 

"Why  do  you  do  that?"  muttered  Stella  crossly. 
"I  don't  want  to  get  up.  Please  shut  it  again." 

Instead  of  doing  so,  Felicity  put  a  rug  over  her  and 
she  immediately  shut  her  eyes  again. 

Through  a  hazy  mist  of  golden  light,  Felicity's 
voice  sank  down  to  her,  calling,  calling,  slitting  the 
haze  mercilessly  so  that  a  veritable  storm  of  fierce  hate 
surged  over  her  and  yet  found  expression  in  mere  weak 
tears  and  faint  entreaties  to  be  let  alone. 

"How  much  did  you  take,  Stella?" 

The  question  was  gently  and  quietly  put  and  yet 
the  golden  mist  melted  at  it,  leaving  her  alone  in  a 
terrifying  discomfort  and  dumb  misery. 

She  could  not  see  the  room,  but  she  could  see  Fe- 
licity standing  by  the  dressing  table  examining  some- 
thing in  her  hand.  Something  she  must  not  see! 
Stella  struggled  up  on  her  elbow. 

"That's  mine!    You  have  no  business  to  touch  it!" 

"If  it  had  been  Adam  who ' 

That  was  enough!  Stella  was  whirled  back  to 
wakefulness  and  comprehension  and  terror — desperate 
terror. 

She  flung  herself  from  the  bed  and  on  to  the  floor 
before  Felicity,  clutching  at  her  and  shaking  and  gasp- 
ing. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  209 

"Don't  tell  him !  Don't  let  him  know,  Madre !  He'd 
shut  me  up!  He'd  kill  me!  He  mustn't  know!  He 
mustn't!  Say  he's  not  coming,  Madre!" 

Felicity  got  her  back  on  the  tumbled  bed,  soothing 
her,  holding  her  in  her  arms,  and  telling  her  again  and 
again  that  Adam  did  not  know  and  was  not  coming. 

The  paramount  necessity  was  to  calm  her,  and  Fe- 
licity, knowing  it,  was  hard  put  to  achieve  this  and 
escape  that  promise  of  secrecy  that  Stella  wildly 
pressed  on  her. 

The  most  effectual  argument  was  that  unless  she 
got  command  of  herself  Adam  might  return  and  de- 
mand explanations  of  her  condition.  Felicity  knew 
quite  well  that  the  chance  of  Adam's  return  that  night 
was  small.  It  had  been  left  in  doubt  that  morning; 
he  was  to  wire  if  he  were  coming,  and  no  wire  had 
arrived.  But  she  lied  bravely  and  by  degrees  she  got 
Stella  to  take  hold  of  herself. 

She  bathed  her  face  and  hands,  and  ordered  tea, 
and  insisted  on  Stella  coming  into  the  sitting-room. 
She  talked  of  Veronica  and  Christopher  and  the  merits 
of  a  new  dressmaker  that  Veronica  had  found.  Finally 
she  told  her  it  was  now  past  seven  and  that  as  Adam 
had  not  wired  he  would  not  be  returning.  Where- 
upon Stella  let  go  her  hardly  achieved  control  and 
began  to  cry.  Later  on  she  became  irritable  and  cross 
to  such  a  degree  that  when  Felicity  had  once  got  her 
to  bed  again,  she  went  to  her  own  room  and  lay  back 
in  a  chair  with  tears  of  weariness  in  her  eyes.  It  was 
no  use  being  tired.  The  problem  had  to  be  faced 
and  settled.  Was  she  to  tell  Adam  and  let  him  deal 
with  it,  or  was  she  to  tackle  it  herself? 

There  was  only  one  answer.  To  put  Adam  in 
charge  of  such  a  case  was  like  putting  a  child  with  a 
sick  baby  in  charge  of  a  cupboard  full  of  medicines 
most  of  which  were  poisonous. 


210  FELICITY  CROFTON 


VI 

The  next  day,  by  dint  of  infinite  patience  and  tact, 
she  got  the  facts  of  the  case  from  Stella,  or  at  least  the 
essential  facts. 

She  had  acquired  the  habit  of  taking  drugs  and 
acquired  it  badly  in  those  miserable  days  following 
her  youthful  indiscretion.  Mark  had  discovered  it 
and  it  was  Mark  who  had  sent  her  to  the  doctor. 
Felicity  was  appalled  to  learn  how  easily  she  had  ob- 
tained the  drug  at  the  cost  of  a  little  ingenious  du- 
plicity. The  same  methods  had  procured  it  for  her 
now  when  under  the  stress  of  acute  depression  and 
physical  disability  her  thoughts  had  again  turned  to 
the  forbidden  relief. 

"I  felt  Adam  was  getting  tired  of  my  being  so  dull 
and  stupid  and  it  does  brighten  one  up  so,"  she  moaned 
plaintively. 

She  seemed  to  have  little  sense  of  shame  and  her 
greatest  concern  was  the  keeping  of  the  knowledge 
of  her  weakness  from  Adam.  The  very  thought  of 
his  knowing  threw  her  into  a  paroxysm  of  nervous 
hysteria  the  result  of  which  threatened  to  bring  disas- 
ter on  Adam's  hopes  and  Stella's  own  well-being.  How 
much  ground  there  was  for  her  terror  of  her  husband, 
Felicity  could  not  determine.  She  knew,  of  course, 
that  Adam  would  not  willingly  have  hurt  a  hair  of 
her  head,  and  would  have  let  himself  be  cut  in  pieces 
before  endangering  the  life  of  his  unborn  child.  Still, 
if  he  knew,  he  would  have  to  deal  with  Stella  one  way 
or  another,  and  Felicity  was  by  no  means  sure  he 
would  hit  on  the  right  way.  Stella  founded  her  fear 
on  the  unhappy  little  passage  of  arms  over  Mrs. 
Felton.  Adam  had  shown  himself  then  hard  and,  to 
Stella's  mind,  horribly  harsh  over  the  matter.  He  had 
frightened  her  by  his  unswerving  condemnation  of 


211 

the  unhappy  woman  and  above  all,  by  his  pronounced 
conviction  that  Felton  had  better  put  her  in  a  home. 
She  retained  strange,  blurred  terrors  of  her  own  so- 
journ with  the  German  doctor,  who,  after  all,  had 
cured  her,  for  though  she  had  now  slipped  back  into  the 
intolerable  habit,  Felicity  could  see  it  had  been  almost 
a  deliberate  slipping  back,  and  that  far  from  making 
any  effort  to  control  herself,  she  had  rather  excited 
her  own  imagination  and  clutched  at  the  spurious 
relief  with  mental  satisfaction.  She  admitted  she  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  taking  one  small  dose  for  some 
time  any  evening  when  she  had  felt  particularly  dull 
and  dispirited.  That  one  tablet  produced  a  feeling  of 
exhilaration  and  cleared  her  brain,  and  that  a  second 
later  on  stilled  the  reacting  depression,  that  three  pro- 
duced sleep  and  golden  dreams,  but  that  so  far  she  had 
rarely  exceeded  one  for  fear  of  detection! 

She  had  quite  thought  that  when  Felicity  came  she 
would  no  longer  need  the  stuff,  and  yet  had  found  her 
appetite  for  it  grow  with  resistless  force ;  though  never 
till  to-day  had  she  ventured  on  a  full  dose. 

"I  took  four,"  she  confessed.  "I  wanted  to  make 
sure  of  sleep  and  I  used  to  take  more.  Of  course  I 
shan't  take  it  any  more  now — that  is,  if  you  don't  tell 
Adam." 

She  turned  haggard,  anxious  eyes  on  Felicity.  It 
seemed  to  her  quite  simple  to  renounce  it  when  the 
craving  was  not  on  her,  and  her  insensibility  to  the 
enormity  and  strength  of  her  weakness  struck  Felicity 
with  forebodings.  Could  she  really  contend  with  the 
matter  single-handed?  Wasn't  it  her  plain  duty  to 
tell  Adam  and  leave  the  responsibility  to  him  ? 

Stella  with  sharp  penetration  read  the  doubt  in 
Felicity's  mind  and  instantly  the  hysterical  panic 
flashed  out.  She  clung  to  her,  entreating  her  to  keep 
silence  and  at  last  Felicity  put  her  back  in  a  chair  and 
gave  in. 


213  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Listen,  Stella,"  she  said  firmly.  "I  am  going  to 
do  what  you  ask,  I  promise  you.  I  will  not  tell  Adam 
at  present.  Not  until  you  say  I  may.  He  must  know 
ultimately,  remember,  but  I  will  wait  till  you  are 
stronger  and  your  baby  is  born.  Till  then  I  will  stay 
with  you  and  help  you  all  I  can  if  you  will  do  your 
part.  Promise  me,  on  your  side,  that  you  will  tell  me 
if  ever — whenever — your  thoughts  turn  to  this  dread- 
ful thing.  I  can't  hope  now  to  make  you  see  how 
dangerous  it  is,  but  you  must  believe  you  are  endan- 
gering your  life  and  your  child's  life.  I  have  got  your 
syringe  and  the  bottle  of  tablets  and  I  shall  destroy 
them  and  then  it  must  be  done  with." 

"Darling,  darling  Madre!" 

"But  you  quite  understand  that  Adam  must  know 
later  on,  when  you  can  see  there  is  nothing  to  fear 
from  him.  I  will  tell  him  myself,  if  you  wish." 

"Yes,  but  only  when  I  say  so,  Madre?" 

"If  you  will  promise  on  your  side?" 

"I  will  promise  what  you  like  if  only  you  will  be 
good  to  me." 

"Then  I  promise  and  I  never  break  my  word,  nor 
must  you." 

"Oh,  Madre  dear,  if  I  had  only  had  you  always!" 

"My  dear,  let  us  think  of  the  future,  not  of  the 
past.  One  thing  more.  Have  you  any  more  of  those 
tablets?" 

She  looked  at  her  straightly.  Stella  shot  a  quick 
glance  at  her  and  then  looked  away. 

"No,  really  and  truly  no,  Madre !" 

She  looked  back  into  Felicity's  eyes  with  rather  a 
frightened  air. 

"That's  all  right.    I  believe  you,  Stella." 

She  took  the  syringe  and  little  bottle  away  with  her. 
Both  must  be  destroyed  at  once.  She  could  not  feel 
safe  till  that  was  done. 

Stella  looked  after  her  with  an  odd  expression,  and 


FELICITY  CROFTON  213 

when  she  had  gone  she  rose  and  went  to  her  secre- 
taire, opened  a  drawer  and  took  from  it  a  little  leather 
case.  She  stood  with  it  in  her  hands  for  a  moment, 
her  eyes  wandering  furtively  from  it  to  the  door  and 
then  to  the  fire.  She  had  quite  a  strong  desire  to 
burn  it,  but  not  quite  strong  enough.  Finally  she  de- 
posited the  case  at  the  very  back  of  a  drawer  in  a 
little  work  table  which  stood  between  the  windows. 
The  drawer  was  deep  and  the  table  covered  with  a 
cloth.  There  was,  however,  no  bottle  of  tablets  with 
the  case — Stella  had  been  perfectly  truthful  in  her 
answer  to  Felicity. 


214  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER  IX 

"Now  I  Must  Deceive  My  Friend  or  Shat- 
ter His  Future." 


THE  days  went  on  slowly.  Stella  clung  to  Felicity 
with  real  heart-whole  sincerity,  and  Felicity  watched 
her  without  seeming  watching,  and  was  for  the  most 
part  satisfied  that  Stella  was  actually  fighting  any  for- 
bidden desire.  She  did  her  utmost  to  keep  her  amused, 
and  succeeded  in  interesting  her  in  the  subject  of  old 
lace,  which  brought  about  excursions  to  various  muse- 
ums and  quaint  shops  and  the  ransacking  of  libraries 
for  books  on  the  subject.  It  was  an  expensive  hobby, 
but  Adam  made  no  objection.  The  essential  thing 
was  to  keep  Stella  employed,  and  lace  sounded  to  him 
a  harmless  and  feminine  habit.  His  real  concern  was 
Madre  herself.  He  was  uneasily  conscious  that  she 
did  not  look  so  fit  as  she  used  to  look,  and  that  she  too 
seemed  always  ready  for  rest,  a  state  of  being  which 
he  secretly  thought  only  excusable  in  Stella.  He  met 
Bessington  one  day  and  asked  him  bluntly  if  he 
thought  Madre  was  quite  the  thing. 

Bessington  said  after  a  moment's  hesitation  that 
they  both  thought  her  unwell,  but  that  she  had  refused 
to  see  a  doctor  and  only  laughed  at  them  for  fussing. 
He,  however,  took  the  first  chance  that  offered  to 
ask  her  if  she  did  not  find  the  Preston  household  too 
much  of  a  job,  and  if  she  couldn't  hurry  up  her  prepa- 
rations and  get  abroad, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  215 

"On  the  contrary,"  she  answered.  "I've  just  put 
off  going  for  a  week.  I  am  going  to  see  them 
through." 

Both  Dominic  and  Veronica  remonstrated  in  vain, 
and  Felicity  gave  up  the  habit  of  resting  when  Adam 
was  at  home. 

She  had  taken  the  precaution  to  go  to  the  shop 
where  Stella  had  obtained  her  tablets  and  warned 
them  that  Mrs.  Preston  was  not  to  be  supplied.  The 
head  of  the  business,  whom  she  saw,  was  sorry  and 
concerned,  but  defended  himself  by  saying  the  paper 
shown  them  was  signed  by  a  doctor.  Felicity  did  not 
enter  into  particulars  as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  sig- 
nature, and  having  done  this  much  to  ensure  Stella's 
safety,  she  felt  more  secure.  She  performed  this  little 
ceremony  on  one  of  the  now  rare  occasions  when  she 
went  out  without  Stella,  and  going  home  she  went  into 
her  own  chemist  and  bought  something  she  required. 
She  had  the  parcel  in  her  hand  when  she  went  into 
Stella  and  left  it  on  the  table  by  mistake.  Stella  from 
where  she  sat,  could,  and  did  read  the  label  with  the 
chemist's  name  and  Mrs.  Crofton  written  on  it. 

The  chemist  lived  quite  near,  she  noticed. 

Felicity's  greatest  triumph,  however,  was  the  arous- 
ing Stella  to  interest  in  the  baby  that  would  be  hers. 
She  had  to  combat  an  odd  jealousy,  for  Stella  was 
fully  aware  of  the  importance  Adam  already  attached 
to  his  child  as  apart  from  herself,  but  still  there  actu- 
ally was  born  in  her  heart  an  interest,  and  even  plea- 
sure, in  the  contemplation  of  something  that  would  be 
so  entirely  her  own  possession! 

This  was  not  the  attitude  Felicity  would  have 
chosen  to  awake,  but  it  was  better  than  apathy,  and 
betrayed  an  instinct  for  motherhood  which  might 
make  all  the  difference  in  both  her  and  Adam's  future. 

All  this  time  Felicity  was  making  the  final  prepara- 
tions for  her  coming  exodus  to  Italy,  or  rather, — for 


216  FELICITY  CROFTON 

her  preparations  as  usual  were  almost  automatic  in 
their  simplicity — assisting  at  the  innumerable  prepara- 
tions and  final  arrangements  which  families  less  accus- 
tomed to  foreign  wanderings  considered  necessary. 
Felicity  looked  forward  to  this  time  with  her  dearly 
loved  young  people  with  an  intensity  that  surprised 
herself.  The  thought  of  it  coming  daily  nearer  and 
nearer  carried  her  over  many  hours  of  fatigue  and 
strain.  She  felt  how  good  would  be  the  sane  simple 
happiness,  how  amusing  even  the  funny  little  squabbles 
between  her  house  party  after  the  menage  at  Marble 
Arch,  and  if  only  Dominic  and  Veronica  could  join 
her,  she  felt  the  year  would  be  one  to  count  as  a  red- 
letter  year,  in  spite  of  its  inauspicious  beginning. 

The  one  evening  just  when  she  had  felt  lulled  into 
real  security,  Stella  betrayed  an  alarming  vivacity  at 
dinner  which  charmed  Adam  and  left  Felicity  cold 
with  dread.  She  asked  no  questions,  knowing  it  to  be 
useless,  but  she  renewed  her  precautions  and  she 
ceased  going  to  Hampstead,  since  it  involved  too  long 
an  absence. 

ii 

One  afternoon  Adam  returned  early  from  Wool- 
wich. He  thought  he  had  earned  a  holiday  and  in- 
tended dealing  with  some  letters  and  then  playing 
golf.  Stella  was  resting  and  Madre  not  visible.  It 
rather  annoyed  him,  because  she  might  have  assisted 
him  to  find  a  missing  letter  which  he  felt  sure  he  had 
left  on  the  mantel-piece  of  his  own  room  that  morn- 
ing. It  was  not  there  now  and  it  looked  suspiciously 
as  if  the  room  had  been  turned  out,  in  which  case  he 
thought  with  despair  the  letter  might  be  anywhere. 
Perhaps  it  had  been  carried  into  the  sitting-room  even. 
Having  exhausted  possibilities  in  his  own  den,  he 
turned  to  the  other  room.  It  was  not  on  the  mantel- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  217 

piece  there,  and  that  too  looked  as  if  some  one  had 
had  an  access  of  tidiness.  He  turned  over  the  con- 
tents of  one  or  two  drawers  and  sorted  them  care- 
fully. They  seemed  mostly  full  of  bits  of  strings, 
advertisements  or  needlework.  The  likelihood  of  the 
missing  envelope  being  among  them  was  remote,  still 
there  was  a  faint  possibility  that  it  might  have  got 
mixed  up  with  some  papers  and  tidied  away  here  by 
either  Stella  or  Felicity,  or  the  maid.  He  hesitated 
a  moment  as  to  opening  the  secretaire  till  he  remem- 
bered that  Stella  kept  all  her  letters  in  a  despatch  box 
which  was  in  her  room,  and  that  the  pigeon  holes  here 
contained  nothing  of  a  private  nature,  nothing  at  all 
indeed  but  a  few  bills  and  writing  paper.  A  small 
table  covered  with  a  cloth  stood  between  the  two  win- 
dows. It  was  the  last  thing  left  to  examine.  It  had 
only  one  drawer  which  he  opened  with  no  hope. 

The  drawer  contained  a  book  of  Indian  poems, 
some  theatre  programmes,  a  fan  which  he  knew  was 
Madre's,  that  seemed  all,  but  he  put  his  hand  to  the 
very  back  and  found  two  other  items,  a  little  black 
leather  case  and  a  small  white  parcel,  obviously  the 
make  up  of  a  chemist.  He  stood  a  moment,  looking 
at  these  things  with  an  odd  sense  of  irritation  and 
dislike.  There  was  something  secret  and  furtive  in 
their  appearance  there  at  the  very  back  of  the  drawer. 
He  opened  the  case.  It  contained  a  delicate  little  silver 
hypodermic  syringe.  His  sense  of  irritation  changed 
to  sudden  anger  that  was  akin  to  fear.  He  tore  open 
the  white  packet.  It  held  a  little  bottle  of  minute 
white  tablets  which  was  labelled,  "Morphine.  One  to 
a  dose." 

He  stood  gazing  at  them,  with  scornful  wrath 
against  some  unknown  creature  of  a  habit  for  which 
he  had  nothing  but  contempt  and  sick  loathing,  then 
hearing  a  little  gasp  behind  him,  he  turned  and  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  Felicity. 


218  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Give  me  that,  please,  Adam!" 

She  spoke  very  quietly,  though  there  was  a  singing 
in  her  ears  and  a  sense  of  incomplete  personality  that 
stifled  her,  and  she  held  out  her  hand.  But  Adam 
gripped  the  accursed  things  he  held  yet  more  tightly, 
and  spun  round  on  her. 

"Whose  are  they?"  he  demanded  curtly. 

She  had  only  an  instant  of  time  for  her  decision, 
though  her  thoughts  annihilated  time.  She  faced  in 
that  instant  her  promise  to  Stella,  the  partial  victory 
already  gained,  and  the  implied  lies  when  the  other 
syringe  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  new  deception 
and  the  danger  to  Adam's  child  if  his  anger  should 
even  for  a  moment  outrun  his  humanity.  It  all  rushed 
across  her  mind,  beclouding  perhaps  her  judgment, 
leaving  only  one  issue  clear.  Adam's  child  must  be 
protected ! 

She  held  out  her  hand  again. 

"Give  it  to  me  please — it's  mine." 

He  faced  her,  incredulous  and  dum  founded. 

"It's  morphine — drugs;  it  can't  be  yours." 

She  only  reiterated  her  demand. 

"Please  give  it  me." 

With  him,  too,  the  rush  of  thoughts  spun  through 
the  clouded  seconds,  but  his  slower  brain  grappled  with 
but  one  of  these  clamouring  demands  on  his  reason. 
Was  this  what  was  the  matter  with  Madre  ?  Her  lan- 
guor, her  avoidance  of  him,  her  refusal  to  see  a  doc- 
tor. Was  it  all  traceable  to  this — sickening — beastly 
— thing,  and  she  was  Madre,  the  woman  he  had  re- 
spected and  loved  almost  as  his  own  mother,  the 
woman  to  whose  strong  common  sense  he  had  con- 
fided the  welfare  of  his  wife  and  his  unborn  child! 

She  stood  there,  quietly  demanding  her  belongings 
unashamed,  almost  undismayed. 

Extreme  horror,  and  passionate  resentment  at  being 
in  some  way  duped,  struck  him  with  a  fierce  gust  of 


"GIVE   ME   THAT,    PLEASE,    ADAM" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  219 

anger.  He  struggled  for  words  and  found  none,  and 
all  the  while  she  stood  there  white  faced  and  with 
eyes  on  his  waiting  for  him  to  give  her  these — 
things ! 

He  would  never  give  them.  It  should  never  be  in 
her  power  to  say  he  had  helped  her  even  that  futile 
step  on  the  way  to  degradation.  He  swept  her  aside 
and  into  the  heart  of  the  fire  he  crammed  the  leather 
case  and  the  little  glass  phial,  crashed  it  down  into 
the  flame  first  with  his  heel,  and  then  with  a  more 
effective  poker. 

Then  he  stood  up  and  looked  at  her  again. 

She  watched  him  with  such  approval  in  her  eyes 
that  it  was  well  for  her  purpose  he  did  not  see  her 
face  too  soon.  She  looked  away  indeed  as  he  looked 
up  and  saw  the  white  paper  which  had  wrapped  the 
phial  lying  on  the  floor.  She  picked  it  up  mechanically 
and  saw  her  own  name  inscribed  on  it. 

For  a  second  her  resolution  wavered  before  this 
proof  of  a  new  treachery  and  then  with  a  ghost  of  a 
smile  she  handed  it  to  Adam  with  the  name  upper- 
most. 

He  snatched  it  from  her  roughly,  just  scanned  the 
writing,  and  flung  it  into  the  fire. 

Then  at  last  his  anger  found  crippled  expression. 

"If  I  hadn't  seen  it  myself  I  should  not  have  be- 
lieved it.  Of  course  I  know  women  do  these  things, 
but  though  there  was  clearly  something  wrong  with 
you,  I  should  never  in  my  wildest  thoughts  have  be- 
lieved this! — and  I  had  got  you  here  to  look  after 
Stella !  You  might  have  easily  refused — I  haven't  any 
real  claim  on  you,  but  you  came,  came  with  this  abom- 
inable thing  with  you  to  take  care  of  an  expectant 
mother!  If  I  thought  Stella  knew— I " 

Felicity  saw  his  clenched  hand  and  the  hard  fierce 
look  in  his  face,  and  for  the  first  time  she  understood 
Stella's  fear  of  him! 


220  FELICITY  CROFTON 

She  put  out  her  hands,  shaking  a  little. 

"Don't  touch  me,  Adam.  Stella  does  not  suspect 
me  for  a  moment !" 

"She  must  have  no  chance  of  doing  so.  The  shock 
alone  would  be  awful  and  I  can't  have — it — near  her 
or  the  child."  He  choked  a  little. 

There  was  a  little  pause.  His  mind  began  roaming 
wildly  towards  relief  and  he  caught  at  the  possibility. 
"Are  you  ill,  Madre?  Is  it  because  there  is  anything 
wrong?" 

But  she  would  not  seize  the  plank  of  safety  swept 
towards  her  grasp.  She  had  not  in  the  remotest  way 
connected  this  cursed  thing  with  herself.  It  had  been 
a  mere  matter  of  words,  but  she  recoiled  from  the 
recognition  of  physical  illness,  for  her  acceptance  of 
this  spelt  disaster — defeat! 

"No,  I  am  not  ill.  There  is  nothing  at  all  the  mat- 
ter," she  gasped.  Adam  saw  for  the  first  time  fear  in 
the  eyes  of  the  woman  whom  he  had  thought  honour- 
able and  faithful. 

He  turned  away  bitterly  disappointed. 

"It's  a  damned  sickening  business,"  he  muttered. 

Still  not  a  vestige  of  fear  or  pity  for  her,  though 
she  stretched  her  senses  to  catch  it  behind  his  halt- 
ing words.  His  wife  and  his  child  triumphed  over 
affection  and  friendship  of  years,  over  the  selfless 
devotion  that  he  had  never  really  recognised  or  even 
guessed  at. 

"What  do  you  wish  me  to  do?" 

She  was  stunned  and  dazed  now,  at  a  loss  to  trace 
any  sequence  in  the  maddening  situation,  only  half 
comprehending  how  it  had  all  arisen,  and  still  far  from 
gripping  the  ultimate  result  for  herself. 

His  mouth  hardened, 
i      "I  can't  have  you  with  Stella." 

"She  cannot  stay  alone,  Adam."  She  was  surprised 
at  her  own  firmness  of  tone, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  221 

"As  soon  as  you  find  some  one  else  to  take  charge  of 
her  I  will  go." 

He  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and  walked  to 
and  fro.  Her  concern  for  Stella  added  fuel  to  his 
anger.  She  had  deceived  him,  tricked  him  into  regard, 
affection  even.  He  hated  thinking  that  he  wanted  her 
gone  so  he  might  forget.  Forget  fulness  was  the  best 
that  could  be! 

"Jane  Mitchen  will  come,  no  doubt.  I  will  wire  to 
her.  Do  you  know  I  had  a  row  with  Stella  not  long 
ago  to  keep  her  from  knowing  a  woman  who  drank— 
only  drank,  and  I  thought  it  beyond  words.  Oh,  it's 
unspeakable." 

"Don't  let's  speak  of  it  then,  Adam.  Go  and  tele- 
phone to  Miss  Mitchen,  but  I  will  tell  Stella  myself 
that  I  am  going  away." 

He  was  up  in  arms  again,  all  for  forbidding  her 
access  to  Stella  at  all,  but  she  met  him  steadily,  or  held 
to  her  point.  She  would  see  Stella  and  explain  in  her 
own  way. 

"I  know  how  to  tell  her,"  she  reiterated,  "and  you 
don't.  You  will  upset  her,  and  she  must  not  be  upset, 
it  is  vitally  important.  She  is  rather  afraid  of  you, 
Adam,  and  more  nervous  than  you  think.  Be  careful 
with  her.  I  am  thinking  of  your  child." 

"So  am  I,"  he  retorted  grimly,  "but  you  might  have 
done  so  before." 

"You  had  better  go  and  wire,  if  she  can  come  to- 
night I  will  leave  at  once." 

He  still  hesitated.  He  wanted  to  say  things,  not 
angry  things  now.  He  was  dimly  conscious  he  should 
do  something  for  her,  but  she  seemed  so  undesirous  of 
aid.  If  she  had  shown  any  signs  of  weakness  or  help- 
lessness, he  would  have  done  something,  though  he 
knew  not  what,  to  blot  over  this  black  knowledge  be- 
tween them.  But  she  needed  nothing.  She  stood 
there,  watching  him  with  something  in  her  face  that 


222  FELICITY  CROFTON 

kept  his  anger  awake — it  was  Bessington  and  Ve- 
ronica's business  after  all !  Stella  must  not  know ;  on 
that  point  he  was  determined.  But  Madre  would  prob- 
ably find  the  best  excuse  for  going — she  was  clever 
enough  at  hiding  things,  it  seemed ! 

If  only  she  would  not  watch  him  with  that  odd  pa- 
tient smile,  looking  as  if  she  wanted  to  take  care  of 
him.  In  another  moment  she  would  be  making  him 
sit  down  and  getting  him  tea,  comforting  him  for  his 
ruined  friendship.  He  made  a  big  effort  and  went 
away  without  any  more  words. 

Felicity  stood  still,  till  the  closing  of  the  hall  door 
told  her  he  had  gone  out.  Then  she  sat  down  slowly, 
shivering  a  little  with  a  curious  fear  in  her  eyes.  She 
sat  quite  still  for  nearly  ten  minutes,  and  during  that 
time  she  did  not  think  consciously  of  what  had  hap- 
pened. She  observed  that  the  window  curtains  had 
faded  in  stripes,  that  a  picture  was  crooked,  and  that 
in  another  picture  the  girl  was  clad  in  a  bizarre  bro- 
cade of  fantastic  pattern,  that  made  odd  shapes,  that 
the  carpet  also  could  be  tortured  into  strange  weird 
pictures  to  semblances  of  things  that  were  nameless. 
Between  these  waves  of  disconnected  thought,  she 
measured  pulse  by  pulse  the  slow  faint  beat  of  her 
heart,  so  faint  she  could  hardly  bear  the  strain  of 
breathing  at  all.  She  measured  that  and  the  time  that 
must  elapae  before  she  could  walk  across  the  room  out 
into  the  corridor  to  her  own  room,  and  those  little 
white  tablets  which  would  set  this  weary  machinery 
going  again — but  they  were  not  of  morphine. 

Then  she  must  go  and  tell  Stella. 

Gradually  the  hazy  nothings  melted  back  into  space 
and  the  real  issues  became  clear  again,  and  she  faced 
them. 

She  first  assured  herself  with  great  emphasis  that 
if  things  had  been  as  Adam  believed  them,  his  be- 
haviour would  have  been  clearly  justified.  It  would 


FELICITY  CROFTON  223 

have  been  his  first  duty  to  turn  her  out,  according  to 
his  way  of  looking  at  things.  She  had  to  make  that 
concession  to  her  reason.  Still,  the  real  question  was 
not  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  Adam's  action,  but  the 
result  of  it  on  Stella. 

Would  it  not  have  been  wiser  to  tell  Adam  the  whole 
truth  now,  and  trust  to  his  love  for  Stella  to  curb  the 
contempt  and  horror  he  had  so  abundantly  lavished 
on  her?  Given  time,  he  would  of  course  see  the  neces- 
sity of  this,  but  meanwhile  the  mischief  might  be  done. 
It  was  with  a  stab  of  pain  she  felt  she  could  not  trust 
him,  that  she  doubted  his  real  capacity  for  dealing  with 
the  situation,  his  capacity  for  the  love  that  suffereth 
all  things.  It  would  mean  shipwreck  to  their  chance 
of  future  happiness  if  she  failed  Stella,  and  probable 
disaster  to  the  child.  Even  if  she  got  him  right  away 
and  made  him  see  the  matter  as  she  saw  it,  he  would 
betray  himself  to  Stella.  He  could  never  play  a  part. 
Beside  she  had  promised  Stella. 

That  was  the  end  of  the  matter.  Unless  Stella 
chose  to  tell  Adam  herself,  she  must  let  Adam  go  on 
thinking  what  he  did  till  his  child  was  born.  No  doubt 
after  that  Stella  would  be  different. 

Meanwhile  Stella  must  be  told.  She  dragged  her- 
self at  last  from  the  chair  to  her  own  room,  and  to 
the  remedy  that  after  all  so  much  resembled  in  ap- 
pearance that  which  had  so  aroused  Adam's  wrath. 

Ten  minutes  later  she  entered  Stella's  room,  and 
Stella  rather  fretfully  complained  that  she  was  late. 


in 

Adam  returned  home  about  six  o'clock.  He  had 
wired  at  five  to  say  Cousin  Jane  would  come  round 
that  very  evening.  He  did  his  best  to  bring  himself 
to  an  attitude  of  greater  consideration  for  Madre, 


224  FELICITY  CROFTON 

determining  to  ask  her  to  put  herself  into  Bessington's 
hands.  He  was  sure  Bessington  was  quite  fitted  to 
deal  with  the  terrible  question.  Meanwhile  he  must 
also  make  sure  Stella  did  not  communicate  with  her. 
What  excuse  had  Madre  made  to  her? 

He  had  no  opportunity  of  putting  his  consideration 
into  practice.  When  he  returned  home  he  found  a 
letter  from  Madre  waiting  for  him.  It  was  lying  on 
the  hall  table,  and  he  took  it  into  his  own  room  with  a 
new  sense  of  irritation. 

The  letter  ran: 

"Dear  Adam: 

"I  have  told  Stella  I  am  called  away  unexpectedly, 
and  that  your  cousin  was  to  take  my  place.  She  was 
rather  upset  at  first,  but  no  harm  is  done,  and  happily 
she  seems  to  like  Miss  Mitchen.  I  think  if  she  is  not 
left  alone  she  will  be  all  right,  but  she  must  not  be 
allowed  to  get  depressed.  I  hope  in  spite  of  every- 
thing you  will  let  me  know  how  matters  go  off,  and 
when  your  child  is  born,  do  not  forget  that  what  I 
told  you  as  to  Stella  being  frightened  of  you  is  per- 
fectly true,  but  that  it  is  only  a  passing  state  of  mind 
which  will  vanish  in  the  better  days  to  come,  only  it 
must  be  encountered  now,  and  given  no  shadow  to 
feed  on.  Remember,  you  can  be  rather  frightening. 

"Yours  ever,  FELICITY." 

That  was  all.  No  regret,  no  appeal  for  help,  or 
demand  on  his  forbearance.  Above  all,  no  demand  for 
his  silence.  In  a  way  that  might  have  set  him  free 
to  say  what  he  would  to  Bessington,  but  Felicity  had 
rightly  gauged  him.  He  would  never  give  her  away. 
The  very  fact  of  her  silence  on  the  subject  would  be 
more  binding  to  his  honour. 

Bessington  and  Veronica  must  find  out  for  them- 
selves, unless  she  told  them.  After  all,  they  knew  slie 


FELICITY  CROFTON  225 

was  unwell !  The  most  Adam  could  do  was  to  impress 
on  them  the  need  of  a  doctor  when  he  saw  them.  He 
would  certainly  do  that. 

He  was  again  resentful  of  her  solicitude  for  Stella, 
and  her  warnings.  It  was  preposterous  to  make  out 
that  Stella  feared  him.  He  had  never  been  anything 
but  kind  and  considerate  to  his  wife.  She  had  not 
very  much  moral  fibre,  he  knew,  that  was  due  to  her 
upbringing — but  on  the  whole  he  was  inclined  to  think 
it  was  better  for  a  woman  to  be  rather  weak,  so  one 
knew  it  necessary  to  take  care,  than  like  Madre,  whom 
no  one  could  have  suspected  of  weakness! 

It  required  rather  an  effort  to  go  in  and  see  Stella. 

She  had  obviously  been  crying,  which  made  him 
angry,  but  she  was  also  making  excellent  efforts  to  be 
cheerful.  She  insisted  on  pouring  out  tea  herself, 
and  it  was  she  who  attacked  the  news. 

"Isn't  it  a  nuisance  Madre  having  to  go  ?  Just  when 
I  had  got  used  to  her.  I  hope  Jane  will  be  amusing." 

"Where  did  Madre  go  to?" 

"Hampstead,  I  suppose.  I've  seen  ever  such  a  nice 
house  in  Country  Life,  Adam." 

She  was  not  at  all  desirous  of  lingering  over  the  sub- 
ject of  Madre,  to  Adam's  great  relief.  Her  interest 
was  far  more  absorbed  in  the  probable  purchase  of  a 
country  cottage,  and  she  spent  much  time  over  agents' 
catalogues  and  Country  Life.  Adam  flung  himself 
into  the  subject  with  a  zest  that  had  hitherto  been 
wanting. 

IV 

Stella  went  to  bed  early  extremely  tired  out,  but  full 
of  self-approval  for  her  own  sustaining  of  the  part 
Felicity  had  left  her  to  play.  Adam  really  did  not 
suspect  her  in  the  least,  there  was  no  reason  why  he 
should  ever  know,  because  she  really  meant  to  leave 


226  FELICITY  CROFTON 

off  the  dangerous  habit.  Felicity  had  at  last  impressed 
on  her  the  salient  point,  that  at  this  point  of  the  pro- 
ceedings she  was  really  endangering  her  own  life  as 
well  as  her  child's  if  she  fell  under  the  old  habit  again 
and  she  would  not  be  able  to  depend  on  Jane  Mitchen 
standing  between  her  and  Adam  as  Felicity  had  done. 
She  did  not  in  the  least  want  to  endanger  her  own  life, 
and  she  had  convinced  herself  that  Adam  would  be 
quite  ready  to  kill  her  or  shut  her  up  as  a  mad  woman 
if  he  knew.  She  was  very  sorry  for  herself,  and  quite 
certain  it  was  a  case  for  pity  rather  than  blame.  She 
had  been  ill  and  miserable  again,  and  sought  refuge  in 
the  easy  solace  of  those  dreams,  but  that  was  a  for- 
bidden thought. 

She  was  very  grateful  to  Felicity.  Any  one  would 
be;  still  it  was  just  a  little  relief  to  be  rid  of  her  kind, 
if  strict,  care.  Stella  had  suspected  that  Felicity  did 
not  quite  trust  her  and  felt  the  least  bit  aggrieved  by  it. 

Jane  Mitchen  was  quite  different.  She  had  thor- 
oughly entered  into  the  romance  of  Stella's  wedding, 
and  saw  things  from  a  really  nice  point  of  view,  and 
she  knew  nothing  of  that  little  step  back.  Stella  was, 
in  fact,  a  little  tired  of  being  too  well  understood. 

After  all  it  was  very  stupid  of  Adam  to  think  Madre 
would  ever  need  to  take  morphia.  She  was  far  too 
ordinary  and  cheerful  a  person  to  even  feel  the  temp- 
tation. She  almost  doubted  indeed  if  Madre  had  a 
temperament  at  all,  but  Adam  never  understood  those 
things.  On  the  whole,  it  was  just  as  well  he  was  the 
least  bit  stupid! 


"I'm  rather  surprised  Mrs.  Crofton  has  not  been  to 
see  you  or  written,"  remarked  Cousin  Jane,  indus- 
triously knitting  a  white  shawl.  "I  thought  you  were 
such  friends.  At  least  I  know  Adam  used  to  be,  but 


FELICITY  CROFTON  227 

he  seemed  quite  annoyed  when  I  mentioned  her  at 
dinner." 

"Adam  doesn't  care  for  her  as  much  as  he  used  to, 
I  think.  Men  are  changeable." 

"Adam  never  used  to  be." 

"Well,  perhaps  he  thinks  he  has  reason,"  returned 
Stella  rather  irritably.  The  subject  of  Mrs.  Crofton 
was  distasteful,  but  Cousin  Jane  never  seemed  aware 
of  the  fact,  and  returned  to  it  again  and  again  with 
provoking  persistence. 

"I  had  quite  understood  she  was  to  stay  with  you 
all  through." 

"Well,  she  couldn't."  Stella  would  have  liked  to 
stop  her  ears  or  scream. 

"I  suppose  she  is  with  the  Bessingtons  ?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"We  might  drive  up  and  call  on  them  one  day." 

"I  should  detest  driving  so  far,  Jane.  Will  you 
'phone  to  the  library  and  ask  if  they  have  got  that 
book  yet?" 

Two  days  later  Jane  Mitchen  was  again  face  to 
face  with  the  subject  which  seriously  interested  her. 
Adam's  few  relations  were  of  the  feminine  gender  and 
they  all  shared  a  common  interest  over  Adam's  friend- 
ship with  Mrs.  Crofton.  It  was  regarded  with  grati- 
tude or  dislike,  according  to  the  extent  of  their  re- 
spective knowledge  of  that  lady.  Jane  Mitchen  had 
never  met  her,  and  had  always  been  profoundly  jeal- 
ous of  her.  She  was  a  well-meaning,  kindly  woman, 
with  a  strong  ungratified  maternal  instinct,  and  she 
had  always  considered  that  if  any  one  was  to  "mother" 
Adam,  the  matter  should  have  been  left  to  her,  and 
not  usurped  by  far  too  young  a  woman  with  a  mar- 
riageable daughter.  In  her  rather  drab  existence 
Felicity  Crofton  figured  as  too  brightly  coloured  for 
general  use.  It  would  be  far  too  strong  a  statement 
to  say  she  was  antagonistic  to  her,  but  her  interest  in 


228  FELICITY  CROFTON 

Mrs.  Crofton  was  always  tinged  with  disapproval. 
It  would,  however,  be  almost  fair  to  say  she  would 
have  been  less  interested  if  her  disapproval  had  been 
less  strong. 

Though  incapable  of  occupying  her  mind  with  big 
matters  Jane  could  and  did  bestow  concentrated  atten- 
tion on  small  occurrences,  and  the  question  of  Mrs. 
Crof ton's  sudden  desertion  of  Stella  really  occupied  her 
mind.  She  knew  it  was  sudden,  from  something  the 
housemaid  had  let  drop.  People  had  a  habit  of  letting 
drop  varied  items  of  news  in  Jane's  presence,  which 
she  with  great  industry,  swept  up  and  sorted  out  for 
future  use.  Besides,  Adam  had  been  so  curious  about 
it.  He  had  spoken  quite  shortly  when  she  had  men- 
tioned Mrs.  Crofton. 

Then  in  Baker  Street  one  evening  about  six  o'clock 
she  had  met  Mrs.  Chancely  and  Mrs.  Chancely  had 
stopped  her  carriage  and  talked  to  Jane.  She  had  been 
to  call  on  the  Bessingtons,  and  had  found  the  house  in 
the  charge  of  a  caretaker. 

"They  had  all  gone  abroad,"  said  Mrs.  Chancely; 
"at  least  I  gather  the  baby  is  with  Patricia  Masters." 

"And  Mrs.  Crofton  has  gone  with  them?" 

"No,  I  am  sure  not,  because  the  caretaker, — it's  old 
Ellen, — asked  me  if  I  knew  where  Mrs.  Crofton  was, 
as  she  had  letters  for  her  waiting  to  forward.  Of 
course  I  couldn't  say,  but  since  I  came  away  I  remem- 
bered that  she  was  with  your  cousins  the  Prestons." 

"Oh,  no,  I'm  staying  with  them.  Mrs.  Crofton  has 
gone." 

"That's  odd ;  still  I've  no  doubt  Ellen  will  find  out. 
Perhaps  she  has  joined  them  after  all." 

Kind  Mrs.  Chancely  drove  off,  leaving  Jane  Mitchen 
standing  on  the  pavement  with  a  little  flutter  of  excite- 
ment in  her  breast.  This  was  an  item  worth  picking 
up.  She  carried  it  carefully  home,  and  only  displayed 
it  to  Stella  after  dinner.  Adam  was  away  that  night 


FELICITY  CROFTON  229 

and  Stella  rather  more  restless  and  exacting  than  usual. 
Cross  at  Adam's  absence,  at  the  stupidity  of  libraries, 
and  most  of  all  upset  by  an  injudicious  letter  from 
her  mother. 

"You  are  not  amusing  me  to-night,"  she  complained 
when  dinner  was  over.  Jane  appeared  to  wake  up 
suddenly. 

"My  dear,  I  am  so  sorry,  but  I  was  thinking  over 
something  I  heard  to-day.  I  daresay  it's  nothing,  but 
still  it  was  funny.  I'll  tell  you." 

The  funniness  of  it  appealed  only  to  Miss  Mitchen 
apparently,  for  Stella  frowned.  She  spoke  abruptly, 
following  her  own  line  of  thoughts  rather  than  her 
companion's. 

"Perhaps  she's  never  told  them  she's  left  us." 

"But  it  would  be  so  unnatural,"  exclaimed  Miss 
Mitchen,  quivering  a  little  with  interest.  "Why  should 
she  not  tell  them  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Stella,  with  an  impatient 
shrug  of  her  shoulders.  "After  all,  why  should  she?" 

"Her  own  daughter!  I  am  sure,  my  dear,  no  one 
can  call  me  curious,  but  really  this  does  sound  odd, 
and  I  am  interested  because  Mrs.  Crofton  was  such  a 
great  friend  of  Adam's,  whatever  you  may  say." 

"I  never  said  she  wasn't — once.  But  Adam  has 
got  some  silly  idea  into  his  head  about  her,  and  he's 
angry." 

She  got  up  and  began  a  restless  walk  up  and  down 
the  room.  She  was  beginning  to  feel  annoyed  with 
Felicity  for  deserting  her.  She  decided  to-night  that 
Madre  was  a  more  intelligent  companion  than  Jane, 
and  she  was  irritated  with  Jane  for  hanging  upon  a 
subject  that  she  wanted  to  forget.  She  would  go  on 
harping  on  it,  Stella  was  sure  of  that,  unless  she  was 
stopped  once  for  all.  Adam  should  have  told  her;  it 
was  like  him  to  leave  it  to  her.  She  was  the  person 
who  suffered  most  from  Felicity's  absence,  and  yet  she 


230  FELICITY  CROFTON 

must  find  the  means  to  stop  Jane's  maddening  sur- 
mises. 

"My  dear.  Ideas!  But  what  sort  of  ideas?  How 
strange !" 

Stella  flashed  round  on  her,  driven  to  a  corner  at 
last.  Her  eyes  were  a  little  wild  and  excited.  She 
talked,  but  neither  her  mind  or  her  outward  attention 
was  given  to  her  words.  She  was  talking  like  a  woman 
in  a  dream,  irresponsible  and  vaguely  conscious  of  it. 

"He  thinks  she  takes  drugs,  which  is  of  course 
absurd.  Why  should  she?  She's  not  unhappy  or  that 
sort  of  person.  She  doesn't  feel  things  deeply,  she's 
too  cheerful,  but  when  Adam  gets  an  idea  into  his 
head,  he's  awful.  He  can't  be  turned  from  it.  He  just 
insisted  she  should  go  and  never  thought  about  me  at 
all — and — and,  Jane,  I  feel  so  queer,  I'm  frightened. 
I  wish  Adam  would  come  home.  Do  telephone  for 
him!" 

Jane,  who  was  after  all  a  practical  woman,  tele- 
phoned for  a  doctor  and  nurse,  and  that  amazing  glean- 
ing was  put  aside  for  many  days.  The  next  day 
Stella's  child  was  born.  It  was  a  boy  and  healthy  and 
strong  enough  to  satisfy  even  Adam,  but  Stella  was 
ill,  very  ill,  and  all  day  long  messages  came  and  went. 
The  crucial  hour  in  Adam  and  Stella's  existence  surged 
up  into  bare  prominence — a  detached  point  of  time  in  a 
misty  sea  of  uncounted  days. 

Adam,  sitting  by  his  son's  cradle,  began  to  reckon 
in  his  mind  the  worth  of  this  thing  that  he  had  done, 
and  found  it  of  even  bigger  importance  than  he  had 
imagined. 

VI 

About  ten  days  after  Stella's  child  was  born,  Jane 
Mitchen  took  her  daily  exercise  in  the  Park  with  a 
mind  slightly  more  at  rest  than  it  had  been,  Stella 


FELICITY  CROFTON  231 

was  at  least  no  worse,  she  was  even  a  shade  nearer 
the  haven  of  "Better."  Jane  had  got  through  her  daily 
task  of  letters  and  wires  and  telephone  news,  paid  her 
necessary  visit  to  Mrs.  Forrester  (installed  in  the  lodg- 
ings near  by),  and  really  fatigued  with  the  strain 
of  the  passing  days  and  her  own  share  of  routine 
work  was  little  inclined  to  trudge  round  the  Park  in 
search  of  the  needful  air  and  exercise  the  nurse  con- 
sidered essential. 

It  was  gratifying  to  feel  she  had  been  of  real  use, 
and  that  Adam  would  have  got  on  badly  without  her, 
but  it  was  most  certainly  a  strain,  and  there  were 
moments  when  she  thought  Mrs.  Crofton  had  been 
fortunate  in  escaping  all  the  trouble.  It  was  a  great 
pity  she  could  not  come  back  now  and  take  her  turn, 
for  really  Jane  felt  her  own  affairs  would  shortly  need 
attention.  She  unpacked  that  very  curious  item  of 
news  that  Stella  had  revealed  on  that  fateful  evening 
and  thought  it  over.  As  she  did  so  a  Mrs.  Dixon 
passed  her,  driving  in  solitary  state,  and  suggested  a 
drive.  Jane  was  only  too  thankful  and  Mrs.  Dixon  be- 
ing for  the  moment  bored  and  having  no  other  com- 
panion was  thankful  too.  She  was  delighted  to  hear 
all  she  could  about  the  Prestons,  and  Jane  had  plenty 
to  say. 

"It  was  fortunate  for  them  you  were  there,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Dixon,  having  heard  a  sufficient  amount 
of  news,  "but  I  quite  understood  that  Felicity  Crofton 
was  to  see  them  through." 

"So  she  was,  and  of  course  being  a  married  woman 
it  would  have  been  much  more  suitable  than  myself, 
but  Adam  entreated  me  to  come"  (commanded  would 
have  been  a  better  world.)  "I  did  not  like  to  refuse. 
Mrs.  Crofton,  you  see," — she  hesitated,  either  because 
it  was  more  effective  or  because  she  had  some  dim 
sense  of  responsibility — "Mrs.  Crofton  was  not  well, 
I  think." 


232  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Ah,  so  I  heard,"  returned  Mrs.  Dixon.  "Every 
one's  saying  she  is  not  well,  but  no  one  knows  what's 
the  matter,  I  dare  say.  Say  she's  just  getting  old  like 
the  rest  of  us.  But  perhaps  you  have  really  heard?" 

"What  I  heard  was  probably  quite  a  mistake,"  Jane 
dropped  her  voice  quite  perceptibly.  "Indeed  it's  so 
preposterous  that  it  will  be  good  to  hear  you  contra- 
dict it.  There  seems  to  have  been  some  idea  of — 
drugs." 

Mrs.  Dixon  contradicted  it  promptly,  that  is  to  say 
she  emphatically  said,  "Good  Heavens!  I  can't  be- 
lieve that  it's  possible,"  which  was  of  course  a  con- 
tradiction, and  Jane  looked  relieved. 

"That's  what  I  think,  it's  just  impossible,  not  at  all 
likely,  I  am  sure.  Stella  or  Adam  are  quite  mistaken, 
I  shall  always  say  so.  I  don't  know  Mrs.  Crofton  per- 
sonally, though  I've  heard  so  much  of  her.  She  always 
sounds  as  if  she  were  an  unusual  kind  of  woman,  but 
that's  all.  But  drugs!  Oh,  no,  it's  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Of  course  she  has  been  seedy  for  a  long  time. 
So  wrong  of  Adam,  but  I  have  always  said,  it's  hard 
to  get  an  idea  into  his  head,  but  once  there  it  sticks 
and  it  is  equally  hard  to  get  it  out  again." 

"Did  he  send  her  away?" 

"I  really  know  nothing,"  said  Jane  hurriedly  and  a 
little  frightened.  "I  only  mentioned  it  to  you  to  have 
your  contradiction  to  it.  It's  not  a  thing  to  repeat, 
of  course,  but  I  was  sure  you  would  think  as  I  do. 
Look,  there's  the  mounted  police.  Perhaps  the  Queen 
is  coming  by." 

Mrs.  Dixon  eventually  dropped  Cousin  Jane  at 
Marble  Arch,  and  as  she  crossed  the  road  Jane  said 
to  herself : 

"I  feel  much  easier  in  my  mind  to  find  she  thinks 
as  I  do.  No,  it's  not  a  thing  to  talk  about,  even  if  it's 
untrue.  The  Merediths  and  Maughens  would  never  be 
letting  their  girls  go  abroad  with  her  if  it  were  true. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  233 

I  detest  a  tattler,  but  really  Stella  looked  so  odd  that 
I  wanted  my  own  ideas  confirmed/' 

Unfortunately  she  had  sought  the  confirmation  of 
the  most  notorious  tattler  in  her  circle,  though  to  do 
her  justice  she  was  not  aware  of  this. 


234  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER   X 

"Is  This  Too  Hard  a  Thing  That  I  Ask 
of  My  Friend?  That  He  Should  Believe  in 
Me  Through  Good  and  III  Report?" 


"You  should  have  given  us  a  little  warning,  Felicity, 
and  then  the  house  could  have  been  properly  ready." 

Felicity  readjusted  a  curtain  restlessly.  She  was 
restless.  She  moved  to  and  fro  between  the  rooms, 
not  in  her  old  business-like  way,  leaving  order  behind 
her,  but  idly,  beginning  jobs  and  not  finishing  them, 
opening  drawers  and  closing  them.  Then  turning  to 
the  garden,  she  gazed  at  its  rather  tangled  loveliness 
with  unseeing  eyes. 

Alexander  sat  watching  her  now  with  growing  un- 
easiness. Something  was  surely  wrong,  yet  she  had 
assured  him  all  was  well  with  Veronica  and  the  family. 

"I  did  not  know  I  was  coming  till  this  morning." 

She  spoke  absently  and  her  vagueness  irritated  him. 
He  had  had  a  trying  day  and  Felicity's  evasiveness  on 
the  top  of  it  got  on  his  nerves. 

"We  should  not  expect  more  than  a  telegram,"  he 
began. 

"There  is  no  office  and  I  forgot  once  I  was  in  the 
train." 

"No  office !"  he  gasped.  He  was  still  under  the  im- 
pression she  had  come  from  London. 

"Not  nearer  than  Penard  and  I  got  a  train  there." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  235 

"I  thought  you  were  in  London." 

She  still  made  no  answer,  but  sat  staring  out  of 
window.  He  was  at  last  struck  by  the  fact  that  she 
looked  extremely  tired. 

"I  thought  you  were  with  Adam." 

She  flashed  round  on  him. 

"I  was  not.  I  have  left  Adam,  or  rather,  Adam 
would  not  have  me  there.  He  thinks  I  take — have 
taken  to  drugs!" 

"Felicity,  are  you  quite  mad!" 

"Not  so  mad  as  that  to  imagine  that." 

She  looked  him  fixedly  in  the  face  now,  with  un- 
swerving eyes  and  he  could  see  she  was  speaking  with 
an  effort. 

"He  found  a  syringe  and  some  morphine.  I  told 
him  it  was  mine  and  he  -said  in  that  case  I  couldn't 
look  after  Stella  any  longer." 

"But  was  it  yours?" 

Alexander  stared  at  her  in  complete  bewilderment. 
For  the  moment  he  really  did  not  believe  that  she  knew 
what  she  was  saying. 

Still  her  voice  was  firm  and  her  restlessness  had 
ceased.  She  just  stood  there  quietly  looking  at  him, 
waiting  apparently  for  some  answer  to  her  amazing 
statement. 

"But  was  it  yours  ?"  he  repeated,  still  bewildered  and 
hardly  able  to  see  where  question  or  answer  would 
lead  him. 

"My  name  was  on  the  packet!" 

"But  you  don't  take  morphine?" 

He  said  it  slowly,  incredulously,  but  questioningly. 

She  had  been  living  on  a  strong  hope,  almost  a  cer- 
tainty of  hearing  him  break  out  quickly  into  anger 
at  the  incredible  thing,  and  instead  he  questioned  her ! 
She  shrunk  back  a  little,  not  from  him  but  from  a 
sudden  chill  that  gripped  her  heart. 

"The  Maughens  and  the  Merediths  heard  it  and  be.- 


236  FELICITY  CROFTON 

lieve  it  and  they  won't  let  their  girls  go  to  Bavano 
with  me!" 

She  would  give  him  no  help  at  all.  If  he  could  not 
give  her  instant  and  unswerving  faith,  he  could  give 
her  nothing.  It  was  the  only  thing  that  could  help  her 
at  this  pass.  But  on  the  face  of  her  bare  statements  he 
could  not  give  it  her.  His  judicial  mind  was  summing 
up  the  facts  of  the  case,  rapidly,  unhesitatingly,  even 
against  his  own  wishes. 

"But  who  told  them?" 

"I  don't  know.    Not  Adam !" 

That  flashed  from  her  in  fierce  defiance  of  coming 
criticism. 

"Why  do  you  take  it?" 

She  caught  her  breath  sharply.  It  had  been  a  mis- 
take then,  coming  here !  She  felt  trapped  and  betrayed, 
and  saw  that  she  would  need  her  wits  about  her  to  hold 
her  own  and  her  promise. 

"Are  you  ill,  Felicity?" 

His  voice  was  urgent  and  pleading,  but  behind  it 
her  sensitive  ear  caught  the  note  of  impatient  amaze- 
ment. 

"No,  no,  I  am  not  ill!" 

The  words  burst  from  her  with  passionate  protest. 
She  still  would  not  take  refuge  behind  that  cover.  It 
lay  too  near  the  door  of  truth. 

"Then  for  heaven's  sake  explain  yourself!" 

"What  is  there  to  explain?  I  have  told  you  what 
has  happened." 

"Not  why  you  take  it." 

She  looked  out  of  window  again  and  her  face  be- 
came set  and  firm. 

"I  have  no  explanations  whatever  to  offer." 

He  got  up  and  began  walking  up  and  down  the 
room. 

"I  can  make  nothing  of  this.  There  should  be 
nothing  to  explain." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  237 

"The  Maughens  think  there  is." 

"Then  of  course  they  are  justified  in  not  sending 
their  girls  with  you.  Older  people  might  afford  to  dis- 
regard the  thing,  but  one  doesn't  put  one's  children  in 
care  of  a  morphia  taker." 

Thus  in  his  hot  blind  way  he  struck  at  her,  or  rather 
struck  at  something  which  he  would  not  recognise  as 
part  of  her.  He  was  wrung  with  an  intolerable 
sense  of  wrong  that  she,  the  well  beloved,  should  so 
fail  his  thought  of  her. 

"If  I  stayed  here  you  would  not  want  your  boys  to 
visit  me?" 

She  asked  it  quietly,  watching  him  with  strange> 
detached  interest. 

"I  should  want  to  be  sure " 

"Sure  that  I  had  given  it  up?" 

She  interrupted  him  with  bitterness  in  her  voice. 
It  was  a  new  note  for  her,  but  he  did  not  heed  it;  he 
was  quite  vainly  trying  to  get  command  of  his  own 
anger. 

"In  any  case  it  could  not  be  the  same  again  for 
them." 

She  put  out  her  hand  as  if  to  thrust  the  sentence 
from  her  and  desisted. 

"I  am  rather  tired,  Alexander.    Will  you  go  now  ?" 

"You  must  have  some  one  here.  You  can't  stop 
alone." 

"I  have  Mary." 

"I  mean  a  friend." 

"Have  I  any?" 

This  time  the  bitterness  got  home  to  him  so  that 
he  was  startled  back  into  his  ordinary  kind  self  again. 

"You  are  overtired,  Felicity." 

"Yes.     Please  go,  Alexander." 

He  still  hesitated,  but  could  find  nothing  to  say  short 
of  unsaying  all  that  had  passed,  and  he  was  not  yet 
ready  to  do  that. 


238  FELICITY  CROFTON 

He  went  at  last,  reluctantly  saying  he  would  see 
her  in  the  morning  when  they  would  both  be  better 
suited  to  talk  things  over.  Felicity  neither  agreed 
nor  disagreed.  She  did  not  rise  to  see  him  off,  but 
sat  still  in  her  chair,  listening  till  his  footsteps  died 
away,  then  for  a  short  time  other  things  died  away  too, 
as  she  had  known  they  would  do — and  the  bell  was  the 
far  side  of  the  fireplace. 

Mary  found  her  still  sitting  there  presently,  very 
cold,  very  silent,  and  on  order  brought  her  hot  tea,  hot 
bottles,  and  a  little  tube  of  tablets  from  her  dressing 
bag. 

ii 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Fraser  went  back  to  his  house,  troub- 
led to  the  depths  of  his  soul  and  puzzled  beyond  rea- 
son. The  thing  was  so  incomprehensible,  even  more 
so  now  he  had  time  to  consider  it. 

He  kept  thinking  he  was  in  some  foolish  dream,  or 
that  Felicity  herself  had  made  some  fantastic  mis- 
take. If  she  had  told  her  tale  in  any  other  manner, 
even  if  she  had  come  in  any  other  manner  than  that 
sudden  descent  on  a  shut-up  house  (and  the  gardener's 
wife  with  a  washing  day  on  hand)  he  would  have 
scoffed  at  her  story  or  even  violently  disbelieved  it. 
But  there  was  something  in  her  maner  of  telling  that 
left  no  room  at  the  time  for  anything  short  of  accept- 
ance of  the  facts.  She  had  flung  them  at  him — that 
was  the  phrase  he  made  for  himself — flung  them  at 
him  and  left  him  to  pick  up  his  verdict  as  best  he 
could.  In  thinking  it  over  her  whole  attitude  aggrieved 
him;  for  after  all,  once  the  facts  were  flung  at  him, 
what  could  he  do  but  accept  them?  If  they  had  been 
one  shade  more  preposterous,  if  even  they  had  framed 
an  accusation  that  Felicity  had  taken  to  drink,  to  shop 
lifting,  to  gambling,  he  would  have  tossed  them  aside 


FELICITY  CROFTON  239 

and  said  she  was  playing  an  ill-timed  joke  on  him. 
But  this  matter  of  drugs  was  so  insidious.  He  knew 
what  a  widespread  vice  it  had  become,  one  so  difficult 
to  prove  or  refute,  and  there  was  always  that  per- 
sistent recollection  of  Felicity's  languor  and  loss  of 
energy  of  late.  Of  course  if  she  had  not  been  well 
that  could  be  accounted  for,  but  she  had  persisted  she 
was  not  ill. 

Again,  for  Adam  to  have  done  that  he  must  have 
been  very  sure  of  his  facts  and  if  he  had  held  his 
tongue  some  one  else  must  have  discovered  it.  He 
fought  shy  of  this  point.  It  hurt  him  strangely. 

He  began  to  wish  he  had  not  lost  his  temper  with 
her  and  to  hope  he  had  not  said  anything  too  out- 
rageous. She  had  taken  him  to  task  more  than  once 
for  saying  more  than  he  meant  to  his  boys.  He  tried 
to  remember  just  what  he  had  said  and  failed.  He 
could  as  usual,  only  remember  what  he  thought.  To- 
morrow anyhow  he  would  talk  to  her  differently.  Per- 
haps she  would  offer  some  more  reasonable  account. 

That  was  his  last  resolution  that  night.  But  when 
he  went  over  to  the  Haven  after  breakfast  the  next 
morning,  he  was  told  that  Mrs.  Crofton  had  gone  away 
by  the  early  train  and  the  place  was  to  be  shut  up  again. 
Alexander  Fraser  went  back  to  his  work  with  a  heavy 
heart. 

in 

One  morning  Adam  got  a  note  from  Bessington, 
saying  that  he  was  coming  to  see  him  before  he  started 
for  Woolwich,  that  it  was  a  very  important  matter, 
and  he  would  be  glad  if  Adam  would  make  a  point 
of  waiting  for  him. 

Stella  was  out  of  danger  now,  though  still  very  ill, 
and  Adam  had  resumed  the  old  routine  of  life.  There 
had  been  moments  in  the  late  hours  of  anxiety  when 


24o  FELICITY  CROFTON 

he  had  felt  very  bitterly  the  loss  of  Madre,  but  he 
had  never  thought  of  writing  to  her.  As  matters  stood, 
her  presence  would  have  done  nothing  to  restore  to 
him  the  old  confidence  and  reliability.  He  did  not 
brood  over  the  matter,  but  he  was  conscious  of  a  streak 
of  greyness  in  life  and  resented  it;  and  the  resentment 
overshadowed  his  transitory  feeling  of  pity  for  her. 

The  note  from  Bessington  led  him  to  more  concrete 
thinking  on  what  had  passed. 

"I  suppose  they  have  learnt  the  truth,"  he  thought 
gloomily.  "I  can't  see  how  I  can  help.  It's  a  miser- 
able business." 

He  thought  it  lucky  that  Stella  had  never  asked  for 
Madre  or  even  talked  of  her.  He  hated  making  ex- 
cuse, and  if  Stella  had  pressed  him  would  have  been 
hard  put  to  to  find  them.  When  she  was  quite  strong 
he  intended  to  tell  her  about  it.  It  would  be  the  safest 
way. 

He  had  not  to  wait  long  for  Bessington,  who  turned 
up  at  the  time  given  and  was  shown  straight  into 
Adam's  den. 

He  lost  no  time  coming  to  the  point. 

"First  of  all  I  want  to  know  where  Madre  is, 
Adam." 

Adam  looked  and  was  amazed.  He  had  heard  noth- 
ing of  the  doubts  of  his  Cousin  Jane  as  to  Mrs.  Crof- 
ton's  whereabouts. 

"I  thought  she  was  with  you.  Her  letters  have  all 
been  sent  on  to  Hampstead." 

"I  know,"  returned  Bessington  drily,  "but  we  have 
been  touring  in  Brittany  for  three  weeks.  We  left  on 
the  second  of  April  and  as  we  were  moving  about  did 
not  expect  letters.  When  we  came  back  the  day  be- 
fore yesterday  the  caretaker  in  great  concern  told  us 
she  had  lost  Mrs.  Crofton's  address,  which  she  had 
sent  her  a  postcard  about  ten  days  ago,  saying  her 
letters  were  to  be  forwarded  to  an  address  which  the 


FELICITY  CROFTON  241 

Woman  can't  remember  and  now  she's  lost  the  card 
after  forwarding  only  one  lot." 

"Bath  ?"  suggested  Adam  uneasily. 

"She  says  no.  It's  old  Ellen,  and  she  knows  most 
of  our  addresses." 

Adam  looked  steadily  out  of  the  window.  He  was 
telling  himself  there  was  no  need  to  be  uneasy. 

"When  did  she  leave  you?"  demanded  the  other 
shortly. 

"On  the  fourth.     I  did  not  know  you  were  away." 

"Very  well.  Leave  that  a  moment.  Now  listen. 
I've  something  to  tell  you  that  you  won't  like  hear- 
ing. You  can  say  what  you  like  after,  but  hear  me 
out  first." 

Adam  nodded.  He  never  felt  less  like  interrupting 
a  man. 

"We  came  home  yesterday  morning,  having  slept 
at  Southampton.  Veronica  was  rather  disappointed  at 
not  finding  a  letter  from  Madre.  There  were  letters 
forwarded  for  her  from  here,  which  puzzled  us,  and 
Ellen's  story  puzzled  us  still  more.  Veronica  'phoned 
down  here  and  was  answered  by  your  cousin,  I  think, 
but  she  could  not  hear  very  clearly,  only  it  was  some- 
thing about  Madre  being  out.  We  expected  a  mes- 
sage from  her  all  day,  but  none  came.  In  the  evening 
we  were  dining  at  Lady  Los  ford's.  We  had  come 
home  specially  for  that.  After  dinner  Lady  Los  ford 
took  me  aside  and  told  me  a  most  scandalous  rumour 
about  Madre,  which  she  said — and  said  rightly — must 
be  stopped  at  once.  I  am  on  my  way  to  her  solicitors 
now,  when  I've  seen  you.  The  thing  can't  have  gone 
very  far  in  the  time,  but  it's  done  mischief  already, 
and  if  we  can  trace  it  back  to  the  originator,  we  can 
make  him  or  her  pay  for  it.  You'll  probably  be  quite 
as  angry  as  I  am."  He  paused  a  moment,  arrested 
by  something  in  Adam's  immovable  face.  "The  long 
and  short  of  it  is,  that  some  liar  has  started  a  report 


242  FELICITY  CROFTON 

that  Madre  has  taken  to  drugs !  Madre !  It  would  be 
contemptible  if  it  were  not  so  mischievous,  but  the 
Maughens,  hearing  of  it,  made  some  excuse  to  stop 
their  girls  going  out  to  Bavano  with  Madre  and  the 
Merediths  and  Drakes  hearing  that  did  the  same. 
They  all  say  it's  preposterous — but  that's  what  they 
do!" 

He  choked  back  his  indignation  with  difficulty,  and 
stood  waiting  to  hear  a  fine  explosion  of  wrath  from 
Adam,  but  Adam  sat  still,  staring  rather  sullenly  at  a 
piece  of  blank  paper  before  him. 

"The  climax  of  the  thing  is,"  continued  Bessington 
slowly,  "that  they  say  you  sent  her  away  from  here 
because  of  this!" 

Surely  the  explosion  would  come  now!  But  there 
was  no  word  at  all. 

"I  am  waiting  to  hear  what  you  think."  Besslng- 
ton's  voice  was  almost  threatening. 

"You  can't  take  any  steps,  you  can't  go  to  a  solici- 
tor's," said  Adam  between  clenched  teeth,  "because  it's 
all  true.  Madre  does  take  drugs  and  I  did  send  her 
away  from  here  because  of  Stella." 

He  got  to  his  feet  because  Bessington  was  standing 
with  clenched  hands  and  a  face  blazing  with  passion. 
It  struck  Adam,  through  his  dumb  sense  of  misery, 
that  he  had  never  known  that  Bessington  had  a  temper. 

"Wait  a  minute,  Bessington,"  he  said  hurriedly.  "I 
found  the  things — tablets  and  a  syringe — by  chance, 
and  she  came  in,  saw  them  in  my  hand,  and  claimed1 
them.  I  wouldn't  have  taken  any  one's  word  but  her 
own — but  there  it  was.  They  were  hers,  and  she  said 
so.  I  didn't  give  them  to  her,  I  burnt  them.  I  sent 
for  Jane  Mitchen  and  she — Madre — went  that  night." 
His  voice  kept  its  dead  level  but  with  an  effort.  "Since 
then  I  haven't  thought  much  about  it  or  her.  Perhaps 
you  don't  know  that  Stella  has  been,  and  is,  very  ill — • 
it's  a  miracle  that  she  is  alive — and  I  have  a  son," 


FELICITY  CROFTON  243 

"I  congratulate  you.  And  having  turned  her  out 
without  even  knowing  where  she  was  going,  you 
spread  this  report?" 

That  fired  him,  and  his  anger  blazed  into  flame 
quicker  than  Bessington's. 

"What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  Because  I  had  to  pro- 
tect my  wife,  do  you  think  me  a  scoundrel?  I  might 
have  written  to  you  about  it,  but  I  couldn't  even  do 
that!  It's  all  too  sickening." 

Bessington's  face  remained  hard  and  unyielding. 

"How  many  other  people  knew  it?" 

"None  but  she  and  I.  She  made  some  excuse  to 
Stella  about  going  away.  She  hadn't  been  well.  I 
asked  her  if  it  were  that  and  she  said  no." 

"How  do  you  suggest  this  lie  got  about?" 

"It's  not  a  lie,"  said  Adam  doggedly.  "I  wish  to 
God  it  were.  I've  told  no  one." 

He  met  the  other's  furious  eyes  defiantly. 

"You  suggest  she  told  it  against  herself." 

"I  suggest  nothing." 

"You  have  known  her  longer — in  your  way — than 
I  have,"  said  Bessington  with  a  cold  steely  quality  in 
his  voice  that  checked  for  the  moment  Adam's  surging 
anger.  "You  can't  help  what  you  believe  perhaps,  but 
I  know  Madre  as  you  never  could  know  her  and  I 
know  this  is  a  lie  and  I  should  refuse  to  believe  it  even 
if  she  told  me  it  were  true.  I  must  see  about  finding 
her  now.  I  don't  suppose  that  will  interest  you !" 

He  went  towards  the  door,  taking  no  notice  of  the 
other's  outstretched  hand. 

The  harness  of  civilization  pressed  hard  on  both 
of  them  for  the  moment.  Even  that  might  well  have 
been  too  frail  to  hold  their  passion  in  decent  bounds 
but  for  the  presence  of  a  sick  woman  in  the  house, 
and  the  reputation  of  an  absent  woman  that  both  loved 
in  their  respected  ways. 


2441  FELICITY  CROFTON 


IV 

Veronica  was  lying  on  the  rug,  pretending  she  was 
a  horse  for  Christopher's  benefit.  Christopher  thought 
she  made  a  very  good  horse  and  called  to  his  father 
as  he  entered  for  further  appreciation. 

As  soon  as  she  could  rid  herself  of  her  small  son, 
Veronica  got  to  her  knees  to  greet  her  husband  and 
pulled  him  down  to  that  level  to  do  so. 

"You  are  back  very  early,  sir,"  she  said  with  sever- 
ity, and  then  after  a  glance  at  his  face  she  picked  up 
Christopher,  rang  the  bell,  and  until  nurse  arrived 
went  on  talking  of  nothing  in  particular. 

While  the  traces  of  his  toy-strewn  progress  upstairs 
were  being  obliterated,  Dominic  continued  standing  by 
the  fireplace,  watching  Veronica.  Her  deliberate  sense 
of  time  values  was  always  an  amazement  to  him.  She 
was  without  doubt  extremely  anxious  to  learn  what 
had  been  the  result  of  his  morning  mission,  and  why 
he  had  returned  so  early,  but  she  would  have  con- 
sidered nothing  gained  by  mingling  that  information 
with  her  son's  demands  on  her  for  rides  and  teddy 
bears  and  engines.  She  had,  indeed,  an  instinctive 
dislike  to  mixing  affairs,  preferring  to  take  life 
as  it  were  in  a  series  of  watertight  compartments 
and  she  liked  to  slip  from  one  compartment  to 
another  in  an  orderly  way.  She  shut  the  door, 
put  a  chair  straight,  and  came  back  to  her  husband's 
side. 

"Now,  please."  Her  voice  was  steady  and  cheerful, 
but  her  eyes  betrayed  her. 

He  told  her  all  that  had  passed  between  himself  and 
Adam.  He  had  meant  to  tell  her  calmly  and  judicially, 
but  his  anger  broke  in  gusty  bursts  through  his  self- 
control. 

Veronica  sat  gazing  into  the  fire. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  245 

"I  didn't  think  Adam  was  like  that,"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice. 

"Like  what?" 

"That  he  would  ever  turn  on  a  woman — on  Madre, 
in  particular,  whatever  he  believed  of  her." 

"That  he  should  even  believe  it !"  he  choked  back  his 
anger  again. 

She  looked  at  him  frowning. 

"Why  didn't  Madre  write  and  tell  us?" 

"Because  she  feared  that  we  should  be  angry  with 
Adam — and  say  something  more  than  'we  never 
thought  he  would  be  like  that,'  Veronica!" 

He  spoke  hotly.  He  wanted  to  kindle  greater  heat 
in  her  than  this. 

"Do  you  think  that  Madre  is  ill?" 

"In  what  way  ?  In  Adam's  sense  ?  No !  Veronica, 
how  can  you!" 

"Can  I  what?" 

She  lifted  her  eyes  and  he  saw  at  last  the  tears  in 
them  and  the  trouble  breaking  through  the  veil,  and 
remembered  how  hard  it  was  for  her  to  express  emo- 
tion of  any  kind. 

"Oh,  you  don't  believe  it!"  she  cried  and  her  face 
brightened.  "Dominic,  darling,  you  didn't  say.  How 
could  I  know?"  She  was  distressed  beyond  words, 
and  the  tears,  always  so  difficult  to  her,  brimmed  over. 

Dominic  sat  by  her  and  soothed  her,  and  tried  to 
forget  that  she  was  believing  in  her  mother  because 
he  did. 

"But  where  is  she,  and  why  doesn't  she  write?"  she 
said  at  length. 

"I  spent  the  morning  after  I  left  Preston,  telephon- 
ing and  wiring.  I've  tried  Bath.  She's  been  there  and 
gone  again.  I've  been  to  her  lawyer  and  to  Bassai 
who  is  managing  this  Bavano  business  for  her.  I've 
sent  to  the  Maughens,  confound  them!  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Veronica,  but  it's  the  mildest  thing  I  can  say! 


246  FELICITY  CROFTON 

They  say  they  have  not  heard  from  her  since  they 
wrote  saying  that  Alice  and  Millie  were  obliged  to  put 
off  their  visit.  Obliged !  And  they  had  the  effrontery 
to  add  they  did  hope  that  Madre  was  not  annoyed !" 

He  walked  up  and  down  restlessly  in  fierce  impa- 
tience. 

"But  you  don't  think  there  is  any  need  to  be 
anxious?"  demanded  Veronica  with  startled  eyes. 

"Veronica,  think  yourself,  for  heaven's  sake !  Where 
do  you  suppose  she  would  go  if  she  didn't  want  us  to 
find  her?  Can't  you  know  or  feel?" 

He  put  his  hands  on  her  shoulders  and  grasped  her. 
It  had  become  a  paramount  necessity  to  him  for  the 
moment  to  find  in  her  some  more  intimate  knowledge 
of  her  mother,  some  keener  perception  of  her  possi- 
ble moods  than  he  could  himself  offer. 

She  put  her  hands  on  his  arms  and  looked  in  his 
face  with  pity. 

"I  think  she  would  go  to  the  sea  or  to  some  quiet 
big  place.  She  would  want  to  be  alone  if  she  were — 
worried.  She  always  did !" 

"Was  there  never  any  one  to  stand  by  her  and  help !" 
he  groaned. 

"I  suppose  not.  I  was  never  big  enough."  She  was 
still  looking  into  his  face  with  great  gravity  and  he  let 
go  his  hold  and  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her. 

"God  forbid  that  you  should  ever  be  alone  like  that, 
my  darling!" 

She  smiled  back. 

"We  have  you  now.  You  are  big  enough  for  us 
both." 

"But  we  haven't  got  her." 

"Have  you  sent  to  Mrs.  Croby?" 

"No!"  " 

"Wire  there.     She  liked  that  place,  Dominic." 

He  went  out  to  wire,  oddly  comforted.  Veronica's 
refusal  to  be  moved  to  poignant  anxiety  had  its  ad- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  247 

vantages  now  that  she  had  betrayed  some  insight  into 
her  mother's  possible  movements.  It  was  absurd  of 
him  never  to  have  thought  of  Staunton's  Farm.  He 
sent  off  the  wire  and  a  prepaid  form  for  answer  and 
went  out  with  the  intention  of  calling  on  Lady  Los- 
ford,  but  when  he  got  to  the  door  he  recognised  the 
Merediths'  carriage,  waiting,  whereupon  he  beat  a  re- 
treat and  went  back  to  his  rooms  to  wait  for  the  an- 
swer to  his  wire. 

Veronica's  instinct  proved  right.  Mrs.  Croby  wired 
back  that  Mrs.  Crofton  had  been  there  for  a  week, 
but  had  left  without  saying  where  she  was  going. 
Dominic  took  the  first  available  train  and  went  down 
to  interview  Mrs.  Croby.  She  had  little  information 
to  give  after  all. 

Mrs.  Crofton  had  arrived  without  warning  and 
asked  her  to  put  her  up  for  a  few  days.  She  had  done 
little  but  sit  in  the  garden  or  on  the  shore.  Mrs.  Croby 
had  not  thought  her  looking  well,  but  she  seemed  so  put 
about  at  any  suggestion  of  this,  that  Mrs.  Croby  had 
forbore  further  comment.  Then  one  morning  she  had 
had  a  budget  of  letters,  and  on  going  in  Mrs.  Croby 
had  found  her  sitting  at  the  table,  staring  before  her, 
evidently  much  upset.  She  said  nothing,  however,  but 
went  and  stayed  out  on  the  Downs  and  stayed  there 
all  day,  forgetful  of  meals.  The  next  day  she  had 
spent  on  the  sofa  and  looked  so  ill  that  Mrs.  Croby 
had  begged  her  see  a  doctor.  She  had  refused  and 
two  days  later  had  left  them. 

"She  said  she  was  going  to  see  her  own  doctor  in 
town,  but  she  said  it  joking-like,"  finished  Mrs.  Croby 
doubtfully.  "She  only  wrote  one  letter  while  she  was 
here.  That  were  to  a  doctor,  though,  for  I  remember 
Dr.  Mathew  was  the  name  on  the  envelope,  'cause  of 
it  being  same  name  as  my  old  man.  I  give  him  the 
letter  to  post  and  I  says  to  him,  'Don't  thee  go  and 
take  that  to  thyself,  mind,'  joking-like.  That  were  the 


248  FELICITY  CROFTON 

only  letter  Mrs.  Crofton  wrote  while  she  were  here, 
far  as  I  see." 

Dominic  went  back  to  town  still  unsatisfied.  He 
knew  of  no  Dr.  Mathew. 

It  was  Veronica  again  who  came  to  his  aid. 

"Dr.  Mathew  is  the  Prestons'  doctor.  Adam  can 
find  out  that.  I'll  write  and  ask  him,  or  rather  'phone." 

He  was  much  relieved.  He  was  not  sure  that  any 
question  he  could  bring  himself  to  put  to  Adam  would 
be  answered. 

A  note  came  from  Adam  in  the  evening  to  the  effect 
that  he  had  seen  Dr.  Mathew,  who  owned  he  had  had 
a  letter  from  Mrs.  Crofton  about  a  week  ago,  asking 
how  Mrs.  Preston  was.  She  said  she  did  not  like  to 
trouble  Mr.  Preston  by  writing,  but  would  be  grateful 
for  news.  The  doctor,  who  had  felt  personally  ag- 
grieved at  the  loss  of  so  eminently  suitable  a  com- 
panion to  his  prospective  patient,  had  replied  at  length 
and  by  return  to  Mrs.  Crofton  at  Staunton's  farm. 

The  only  other  clue  they  got  was  in  the  shape  of  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Fraser  and  even  that  left  them  just 
where  they  were  as  far  as  present  knowledge  of 
Madre's  movement  went.  It  was  the  letter  of  a  miser- 
ably repentant  man  and  it  implored  them  to  use  every 
means  possible  to  trace  Felicity  and  wire  him  her 
address  and  it  ended  with  these  words : 

"It's  a  terrible  thing,  Dominic,  to  fail  a  living  soul 
that  turns  to  you  for  aid!  If  you  can  use  me  in  your 
search  for  her,  it  would  be  an  act  of  real  mercy  for  I 
can  never  rest  till  I  have  assured  her  of  my  tardy 
belief  in  her." 

He  wrote  as  reassuring  a  letter  as  he  could  to  Mr. 
Fraser,  saying  he  had  himself  no  fears  for  Madre's 
physical  safety,  and  that  he  thought  they  had  better 
wait  a  few  days  more  before  taking  steps  which  she 
might  resent  later  on. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  249 


CHAPTER  XI 

'An  Understanding  Between  Two." 


A  FEW  days  later  business  took  Bessington  to  the 
city  and  crossing  St.  Paul's  Church  Yard,  he  came 
face  to  face  with  Felicity  coming  down  the  steps  of 
the  Cathedral. 

He  could  find  nothing  to  say  but  "Well!"  but  he 
kept  firm  hold  of  her  hand  for  a  moment  as  if  to 
make  sure  she  was  not  again  going  to  slip  from 
knowledge  and  sight. 

She  looked  at  him  with  her  accustomed  friendly 
smile,  but  her  eyes  were  oddly  entreating.  He  could 
have  sworn  she  was  calling  her  courage  to  her  aid  to 
quell  some  hidden  fear. 

"I  never  imagined  you  came  this  way,"  she  said 
lamely. 

"I  never  imagined  you  did  either,"  he  returned 
gravely. 

She  looked  up  and  down  the  crowded  street  nerv- 
ously. 

"I  expect  you  are  busy." 

"Not  so  busy  that  I  can  not  see  you  home." 

He  fancied  she  drew  back,  as  if  the  fear  had  raised 
its  head  again. 

"You  don't  suppose  that  having  found  you  I  am 
going  to  let  you  slip  out  of  my  sight  again?  I  am 
coming  with  you." 


250  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Very  well — come!" 

He  caught  again  the  note  of  courage,  defying  some- 
thing— or  some  one! 

"Perhaps  you  will  come  and  lunch  with  me?" 

It  was  so  obviously  an  effort  to  say  it,  that  he  wanted 
to  refuse,  but  the  necessity  of  holding  her  in  knowledge 
was  too  pressing. 

"Yes,  I'll  come." 

They  turned  and  walked  side  by  side  along  the 
crowded  pavement.  There  was  a  flower  girl  at  the 
corner  where  they  took  to  the  subway  and  Felicity 
stopped  and  bought  some  flowers. 

"We  must  anyhow  have  flowers,"  she  said  dreamily. 

"Only  flowers  for  lunch?"  he  questioned,  just  to 
put  things,  to  re-establish  relations,  on  the  best  foot- 
ing. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  little  perplexed  air. 

"There  is  sure  to  be  something  in  the  house." 

"Madre,  dear,  if  I  wasn't  so  horribly  anxious  to 
learn  where  you  are  hiding  yourself  I  should  take  you 
off  to  the  Savoy  to  celebrate  our  meeting." 

"How  is  Veronica?"  she  asked,  still  with  the  air  of 
holding  him  off. 

He  satisfied  her  on  that  point  and  they  went  on 
without  speaking.  Just  when  he  was  wondering 
whether  she  had  taken  to  living  on  the  house-tops  or 
in  a  warehouse  or  underground  they  turned  sharply 
into  a  narrow  alley,  passed  through  an  iron  gate  and 
found  themselves  in  a  small  square.  It  was  sur- 
rounded by  respectable  houses  of  austere  aspect,  and 
they  seemed  mostly  to  be  offices  of  respectable  dignified 
firms  that  had  drawn  themselves  away  from  the  hustle 
and  rush  of  modern  business  to  this  quiet  haven  where 
they  might,  unmolested,  work  out  their  quiet  days  in 
the  sedate  manner  of  their  founders.  Several  windows 
supported  window  boxes  and  made  already  a  brave 
show  of  early  flowers.  In  the  square  itself  lilacs  were 


FELICITY  CROFTON  251 

putting  on  green  leaves,  fearless  of  the  late  frosts 
which  assailed  more  exposed  regions. 

The  sudden  quiet,  after  the  noise  of  the  street, 
made  their  voices  sound  unnaturally  loud.  Bessington 
felt  his  own  personality  to  be  something  too  vital  and 
too  insistent  for  the  self-effacement  of  this  reticent 
place. 

"The  curate  of  St.  Ambrose  and  his  wife  live  at  the 
corner  house,"  said  Felicity,  doing  the  honours.  "They 
are  both  most  kind,  but  I  fear  I  shall  disappoint  them. 
Mrs.  Mears,  with  whom  I  lodge,  is  very  kind,  too. 
She  is  a  Christian  Scientist.  I  think  I  disappoint  her 
too,  but  she  is  very  cheerful,  and  good  for  one." 

They  crossed  the  corner  and  entered  number  7.  It 
was  a  small  house,  and  the  ground  floor  was  occupied, 
according  to  evidence  on  the  wire  blinds,  by  Carey  and 
Sons,  accountants.  There  were  three  windows  and 
two  rooms  on  the  first  floor,  and  these  had  window 
boxes  newly  planted.  These  were  Felicity's  rooms. 

She  kept  him  waiting  in  the  passage  while  she  went 
to  the  head  of  the  stairs  leading  to  back  regions  to 
interview  Mrs.  Mears.  Then  returning  she  took  him 
upstairs  and  into  her  own  domain. 

The  room  was  panelled.  It  was  sparsely  furnished. 
The  two  narrow  windows  had  window  seats  in  them. 
There  were  a  gate  legged  table,  a  book  case,  three 
chairs,  one  of  which  was  an  easy  chair.  There  was  a 
dim  old  painting  of  fruit  on  one  wall,  and  on  another 
an  autotype  of  Rossetti's  Annunciation.  An  ojd  mir- 
ror hung  over  the  mantel  place  and  there  was  a  faded 
eastern  carpet  on  the  floor.  A  few  personal  belong- 
ings in  the  shape  of  books  and  photographs  and  the 
inventory  of  the  room  was  complete.  Bessington  took 
it  all  in  swiftly.  He  knew  she  could  not  have  been 
here  long  and  yet  already  the  quiet  bare  room  seemed 
to  have  absorbed  something  of  her  personality,  and 
he  was  immensely  glad  to  be  there.  He  sat  in  a  win- 


252  FELICITY  CROFTON 

dow  seat  and  watched  her  put  her  flowers  into  water. 
Something  seemed  to  him  wrong  enough  to  disturb 
his  content  for  a  few  moments,  then  he  found  out 
that  the  wrongness  lay  in  the  fact  that  she  had  drawn 
up  a  chair  and  sat  down  to  do  the  flowers.  She  talked 
of  them  and  of  the  plentiful  supply  in  the  city  that 
season,  and  of  the  lilac  bushes  out  in  the  Square,  and 
he  listened  patiently  and  answered  in  a  like  vein.  Hav- 
ing done  her  flowers  she  proceeded  to  lay  the  cloth, 
whereupon  he  rose  and  put  her  gently  back  in  the  easy 
chair. 

"I  shall  not  lunch  with  you  unless  I  am  allowed 
to  lay  my  own  cloth,"  he  insisted;  "you  must  have 
learnt  from  Veronica  what  an  obstinate  man  I  am,  so 
please  don't  argue." 

She  laughed  and  protested  she  was  quite  willing  to 
let  him  do  it  if  he  would  desist  when  Mrs.  Mears 
arrived  with  lunch. 

"She  protests  against  my  waiting  on  myself,  and  I 
think  she  would  be  seriously  hurt  if  my  visitor  did 
so." 

Bessington  conceived  a  liking  for  Mrs.  Mears. 

Luncheon  when  it  came  was  neatly  served,  and 
Felicity  made  no  apology  for  its  simplicity.  She  also 
made  no  attempt  to  face  the  inevitable  questions  that 
must  come,  and  Bessington  respected  her  silence  until 
he  saw  she  had  eaten  some  share  of  the  little  meal; 
then  quietly  putting  aside  an  irrelevant  remark  he 
said: 

"Why  did  you  not  send  us  your  address,  Madre?" 

She  looked  down,  crumbling  her  bread. 

"I — I  was  going  to  send  it." 

"You  did  not  even  tell  Mrs.  Croby  where  you  were 
going.  We  were  very  much  worried." 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him  beseechingly, 
but  he  was  firm.  He  drew  his  chair  nearer  her  and 
took  her  hand, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  253 

"Madre,  you  have  been  very  unkind.  What  have 
we  done  that  you  should  treat  us  like  this  ?  You  have 
every  right  to  go  off  by  yourself  and  refuse  to  see 
us  if  you  want  to,  but  you  have  not  the  right  to  leave 
us  without  the  means  of  learning  even  your  address." 

"I  wanted  to  think." 

"Should  we  stop  you  ?  Was  it  good  for  you  think- 
ing alone?" 

She  caught  his  hand  in  hers  and  held  it  firmly,  and 
so  found  courage. 

"Dominic,  it  wasn't,  and  it  isn't  a  question  of  what's 
good  for  me.  There  are  things  I  can't  explain,  and 
can't  talk  about  yet.  I  couldn't  bear  seeing  you  and 
not  speaking  of  them.  I  hoped — I  am  hoping  every 

day,  that  it  will  be  different,  but  until  it  is "  she 

stopped  with  a  baffled  air :  what  was  the  use  of  trying 
to  explain  when  she  couldn't  explain ! 

He  saw  it  must  be  plain  speaking  and  rose  to  it. 

"I  have  heard  all  sorts  of  foolish  stupid  things, 
Madre.  I  went  to  headquarters  to  get  them  explained, 
and  heard  a  story  I  consider  incredible  and  not  worth 
repeating.  If  you  could  explain  it,  we  should  be  glad, 
but  if  you  can't  we  must  be  content  to  know  there's  a 
brutal  sort  of  mistake  somewhere,  and  wait  till  you 
choose  to  tell  us  more.  Only  you  must  not  hide  your- 
self away  like  this,  as  if  it  all  really  meant  something." 

She  got  to  her  feet  and  looked  at  him  oddly. 

"You  mean  you  don't  believe  it  ?"    Her  voice  shook. 

He  rose  too.  "Believe  it?  Oh,  Madre!  Of  course 
I  don't  understand,  and  if  you  will  have  it  so,  must 
go  on  not  understanding,  but  you  don't  think  for  a 
moment  I  believe  it!  Oh,  Madre,  Madre!" 

For  she  suddenly  broke  into  a  fit  of  weeping,  and 
he  held  her  in  his  arms  and  felt  there  was  relief  in 
her  tears.  Also  he  noted  that  her  hair  was  indeed 
streaked  with  grey,  and  that  it  was  no  trick  of  the 
light. 


254  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Madre,  couldn't  you  trust  me?" 

"There  was  no  reason,  Dominic.  It  was  that  partly 
— I  couldn't  bear  to  see  you — believe  it!  So  I  ran 
away !" 

She  made  a  great  effort  and  got  back  her  self-com- 
mand, and  then  stood  clear  of  him  and  gave  herself  a 
little  shake. 

"I've  been  making  a  fool  of  myself.  Don't  tell 
Veronica,  please,  Dominic." 

He  would  not  tell  Veronica,  he  assured  her  gravely. 

"But  I  can't  explain  anything  to  you,"  she  said  sud- 
denly, turning  on  him  with  that  odd  baffling  look  in 
her  eyes  again. 

"We  can  wait  till  you  can.  When  are  you  going 
abroad?" 

Instantly  she  shrunk  back  as  from  a  blow. 

"I'm  not  going.     I've  given  up  the  idea." 

Not  even  to  him  could  she  own  the  deepness  of  the 
hurt  that  had  been  dealt  her,  and  he  recognised  this 
and  mercifully  left  it  for  the  time  being. 

"Tell  me  how  you  came  to  this  place." 

"I  knew  Mrs.  Mears  years  ago.  She  was  a  hos- 
pital nurse.  She  got  landed,  poor  woman,  at  some 
little  village  in  Switzerland  where  I  was  staying.  She 
and  her  friend  had  saved  up  for  years  for  the  trip, 
and  the  friend  got  ill  and  died  there,  and  Miss  Boden 
— as  she  was  then,  was  left  alone  with  no  one,  know- 
ing no  French  or  German.  I  happened  to  be  staying 
at  the  hotel." 

Bessington  nodded.  It  was  all  typical  of  Felicity's 
widespread  meshes  of  friendship. 

"She  married  Mr.  Mears,  who  is  a  clerk  in  the 
office  downstairs,  and  she  looks  after  the  place  and 
lets  these  rooms.  I  have  been  to  see  her  sometimes, 
and  then — when,  when  I  wanted  time  and  quiet,  I 
thought  of  this  place,  and  luckily  the  rooms  were  to  let, 
so  I  came." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  255 

"And  you  propose  staying  here?" 

She  looked  away. 

"For  a  time,"  her  voice  flattened  slightly.  "I  want 
to  be  in  London  for  a  bit." 

He  made  a  note  of  this,  but  outwardly  accepted  it 
as  an  ordinary  thing. 

"We  should  love  you  to  come  to  Hampstead,"  he 
suggested,  though  with  little  hope  of  getting  her  to 
agree. 

"Please  don't  ask  me  just  yet.  I  will  come  and  see 
you — 'and  Veronica.  And  will  you  go  now  please, 
Dominic?  I  am  getting  tired!" 

The  same  words  and  same  excuse  she  had  used  to 
her  brother,  but  this  time  she  was  not  quite  soon 
enough.  Her  voice  trailed  off,  and  she  lay  back  in  her 
chair  with  shut  eyes  and  white  face,  breathing 
strangely. 

Dominic  was  for  the  moment  quite  terrified.  For 
all  he  knew  Madre  might  be  dying.  He  pealed  the 
bell,  and  then  caught  at  a  glass  of  water  on  the  table 
and  tried  to  give  it  her. 

Little  Mrs.  Mears  came  hurrying  in. 

She  went  straight  to  the  windows  and  flung  both 
wide  open,  and  then  came  back.  She  was  quite  col- 
lected, and  seemed  in  no  way  surprised,  which  did 
much  to  restore  Dominic's  nerves. 

"Another  bad  turn!  Well,  she  hasn't  had  one  for 
three  days,  so  I  suppose  one  mustn't  grumble,"  she 
said,  and  while  speaking  she  took  a  little  bottle  off 
the  mantelpiece  and  poured  some  drops  into  the  glass 
of  water.  She  was  so  efficient  and  quick  in  her 
movement,  so  entirely  controlled,  that  the  visitor, 
watching  her,  was  filled  with  gratitude. 

"She  will  be  all  right  directly,"  she  said,  looking 
at  Bessington  with  comforting  assurance.  "It's  just  a 
bad  habit,  you  know,  she  will  get  out  of  it !" 

She  nodded  her  head  cheerfully,  but  Dominic,  not- 


256  FELICITY  CROFTON 

ing  the  blueness  of  Madre's  lips,  and  the  laborious 
breathing,  needed  every  bit  of  reassurance  she  could 
offer. 

In  a  far  shorter  time  than  he  had  hoped  possible, 
he  and  Madre  were  alone  again.  Her  chair  was  drawn 
up  by  the  open  window,  she  was  tucked  round  with 
rugs,  evasive  and  apologetic  as  to  her  slight  attack. 

"I  should  have  felt  miserably  ashamed  if  it  had  been 
any  one  but  you,  Dominic,"  she  said ;  "but  you  won't 
tell  people  I'm  ill,  or  get  fussy." 

"Not  if  you  promise  me  to  see  a  doctor." 

She  began  rubbing  her  finger  up  and  down  the  arm 
of  the  chair. 

"I  have  been — seeing  one,"  she  admitted  slowly. 
"For  some  time  on  and  off!" 

"And  never  told  me?" 

"It's  nothing  very  serious.  I  have  to  be  careful, 
that's  all.  My  heart's  got  a  bit  too  big,  or  something 
silly  like  that.  Don't  let's  talk  of  it." 

"What's  your  doctor's  address?" 

She  told  him  reluctantly,  and  as  he  made  a  note  of 
it  he  looked  at  her  steadily,  with  reproachful  eyes 
which  she  tried  to  evade.  It  was  the  name  of  a  noted 
heart  specialist  in  Harley  street. 

She  watched  him  write  it  down  with  a  little  smile. 

"It's  no  use,  you  know,  Dominic,  unless  I  send  him 
word;  you  won't  get  any  information  out  of  him!" 

"Then  send  it,  Madre." 

She  sighed  but  gave  in.  He  fetched  her  a  card 
and  she  wrote  something  on  it  and  handed  it  him. 

Then  he  turned  to  talking  of  Veronica,  of  Christo- 
pher, and  their  late  trip.  She  listened  eagerly,  but 
when  he  attempted  to  talk  of  mutual  friends  and  future 
plans  he  noticed  that  she  shrank  back  from  it.  He 
had  to  leave  at  last,  but  he  extracted  a  promise  from 
her  that  she  would  not  again  vanish  from  their  ken 
without  warning,  and  leave  no  address.  Veronica  was 


FELICITY  CROFTON  257 

to  come  to  see  her  the  next  day  and  bring  Christopher. 
At  the  very  last,  when  he  had  his  hand  on  the  door, 
she  stopped  him. 

"You  won't  tell  Veronica  anything  more  than  that  I 
am  just  taking  things  easy  for  a  bit.  It's  only  that, 
really;  my  heart  will  get  all  right  in  time:  it's  not 
worth  bothering  her  about  it." 

He  hesitated  perceptibly,  and  she  went  on  nervously 
and  naively: 

"There  are  such  a  lot  of  people  ill  in  the  world,  and 
worried  and  bothered,  and  to  me  it's  a  dreadful 
thought  that  I'm  added  to  all  that.  I  like  to  keep  my 
worries  to  myself." 

He  looked  in  her  brave  eyes  and  saw  in  a  flash  that 
it  was  courage  and  not  cowardice  that  urged  her  to 
hide  her  mental  and  physical  ills  from  the  outside 
world.  He  knew  himself  strong  enough  to  respect 
her  desire,  and  he  recognised  her  right,  though  he  was 
aflame  with  admiration  and  sorrow  for  her  needs. 

"We'll  keep  them  to  ourselves,"  he  answered 
gravely,  and  then  left  her. 

Felicity,  watching  him  from  her  window  as  he 
crossed  the  Square,  knew  he  was  going  to  Harley 
Street. 

II 

For  the  first  time  since  she  had  received  the 
Merediths'  letter,  with  its  carefully  worded  "postpone- 
ment of  arrangements,"  Felicity  felt  it  possible  to  re- 
lax the  strict  hold  she  had  kept  on  her  thoughts,  and 
even  to  permit  herself  to  make  careful  reckonings  of 
the  future. 

She  knew  that  Stella  was  recovering.  In  a  measur- 
able distance  of  time  she  would  be  approachable,  or 
would  herself  remember  their  bargain  and  set  her  free. 
It  had  all  been  quite  clearly  faced  between  them  in  that 


258  FELICITY  CROFTON 

stormy  interview.  Stella  had  promised  with  frantic 
sincerity  to  tell  Adam  directly  she  was  strong  again, 
and  meanwhile  Felicity  promised  to  keep  silence;  and 
such  was  Felicity's  trust  in  human  nature  that  she  ex- 
tended it  even  to  Stella's  word. 

But  even  when  Adam  knew,  and  she  was  free  again 
from  the  suspicion  she  found  so  intolerable,  she  felt 
in  her  heart  all  would  not  be  as  before.  The  friends 
she  had  trusted  had  accepted  mere  hearsay  evidence 
against  her,  and  that  had  cut  to  the  root  of  her  being, 
at  the  happy  companionship,  the  friendships,  the  charm 
of  her  comradeship  with  these  young  people  in  whom 
her  interests  were  knitted  up.  She  could  not  easily 
forget  that  they  had  believed  it,  not  on  circumstantial 
evidence,  like  Adam,  but  on  the  credit  of  rumour.  .  .  . 

Who  had  set  that  rumour  about  ? 

Adam  knew,  or  thought  he  knew,  and  Stella  knew 
actually.  It  must  lie  between  the  two.  Yet  Stella, 
knowing  it  to  be  a  lie,  could  hardly  have  spread  it 
abroad,  since  there  was  danger  to  herself  in  such  a 
story.  She  did  not  and  would  not  believe  that  Adam 
had  spoken  of  it.  That  he  should  have  gone  to  the 
Maughans,  the  Merediths,  and  Drakes  and  deliberately 
warned  them  that  she — Felicity — was  no  longer  a  safe 
guardian  for  their  children,  was  not  possible.  She  told 
herself  so  again  and  again. 

It  must  have  been  Stella;  and  yet  if  it  were  so  what 
hope  remained  to  her  that  Stella  would  abide  by  her 
promise  of  confession  later  on?  To  that  hope  how- 
ever Felicity  clung  persistently. 

She  did  one  other  thing  that  afternoon  of  import. 
She  took  out  from  their  hiding  place  the  letters  she 
had  received  from  the  three  defaulting  families.  The 
two  first  were  polite  and  nervous  in  tone.  The  excuses 
offered  were  a  bit  laboured  but  they  were  excuses — a 
decent  veiling  of  doubt.  The  Drake  letter,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  quite  different  in  tone.  Mr.  Drake  was  a, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  259 

rabid  teetotaler,  and  had  already  been  in  conflict  with 
Felicity  on  the  score  of  no  native  wines  for  his  daugh- 
ter, in  spite  of  her  insistence  that  they  were  far  safer 
than  the  water  of  the  neighbourhood.  He  wrote  now 
bluntly  that  he  had  heard  something  which  made  him 
determine  to  cancel  his  daughter's  promised  visit  to 
Italy  with  Mrs.  Crofton  unless  she  could  offer  a  reason 
for  the  rumour;  that  he  was  willing  to  meet  her  and 
hear  any  explanation,  and  if  it  were  founded  on  fact 
to  give  her  the  best  assistance  in  his  power;  and  that 
if  it  were,  as  he  hoped,  unfounded,  he  would  be  thank- 
ful to  apologise. 

Felicity  had  not  answered  this  letter.  She  had  only 
sent  a  mere  note  of  regret  to  the  others ;  but  the  hurt 
had  gone  deep,  and  her  instinct  had  been  to  conceal  it 
till  she  could  face  the  world  with  a  clean  slate,  or 
with  decent  courage  to  veil  her  wound. 

In  those  first  cruel  days,  when  she  had  sought  refuge 
at  Staunton's  Farm  her  one  real  fear  had  been  of  see- 
ing Dominic  and  of  reading  in  his  eyes  what  she  had 
read  in  Adam's.  If  a  comforting  doubt  of  this  surged 
up  in  her,  she  was  confronted  with  the  alternative 
of  acknowledging  that  Adam  had  behaved  badly,  and 
that  Dominic's  wrath  would  be  directed  against  him. 
Through  everything  she  made  piteous  attempts  to  keep 
hold  of  her  belief  that  Adam  had  only  acted  in  a 
reasonable  way.  In  those  first  days  it  had  really  only 
seemed  to  her  a  question  of  waiting  in  retirement  till 
Stella  should  be  ready  to  clear  her  in  her  husband's 
eyes,  and  that  no  one  else  need  be  concerned.  Then 
had  come  these  letters,  which  put  a  totally  different 
aspect  on  affairs.  It  no  longer  meant  just  waiting  till 
she  could  explain  matters  to  Adam.  Any  explanation 
would  need  long  steps  to  overtake  a  rumour  with  so 
great  a  start,  it  meant  a  readjustment  of  friendships 
and  values,  of  ways  of  living  and  future  plans.  More- 
over, since  Dominic  and  Veronica  were  now  bound  to 


260  FELICITY  CROFTON 

hear  of  it,  there  was  the  dreadful  position  of  facing 
them  with  no  defence  possible.  It  was  that  which  had 
driven  her  to  Bath  in  the  hope  that  her  brother  would 
prove  a  tower  of  refuge — and  he  had  failed  her. 

If  he  could  offer  nothing  better  than  impatient 
anger  and  credit  to  rumour,  he  who  had  known  her 
from  birth,  how  could  she  expect  better  things  at  Dom- 
inic's hands? 

Before  that  thought  she  had  fled  to  London  and 
to  this  retreat.  Time,  she  felt,  must  be  on  her  side. 
The  only  way  out,  that  had  never  occurred  to  her, 
was  to  break  her  promise  to  Stella. 

She  had  seen  Dominic,  and  he,  without  explanation, 
had  refused  to  believe  the  ugly  story.  And  Veronica 
would  in  that  case  refuse  to  believe  it  too!  But  what 
did  he  think,  since  he  had  heard  Adam's  version  ?  She 
could  not  fathom  that.  He  was  good  at  getting  to  the 
root  of  things.  Suppose  he  made  a  guess?  Would 
he  too  hold  silence? 

There  was  quite  a  real  danger  that  if  he  guessed 
he  would  tell.  Felicity  decided  that  she  must  not  see 
too  much  of  him  or  Veronica.  But  meanwhile  the 
world  was  a  much  better  place  to  live  in  than  she  had 
lately  fancied,  and  since  it  was  a  mistake  to  keep  in 
touch  with  things  that  hurt,  one  by  one  she  dropped 
the  letters  into  the  fire. 

in 

Dominic  saw  the  Harley  Street  doctor  with  diffi- 
culty. Nothing  short  of  the  little  message  Felicity 
had  scribbled  on  the  card  would  have  conjured  him 
to  so  unprofessional  a  course  as  taking  a  third  person 
into  his  confidence  respecting  a  patient.  He,  however, 
summed  up  Dominic  Bessington  in  two  minutes,  and 
presently  confessed  he  was  not  sorry  that  Mrs.  Crofton 


FELICITY  CROFTON  261 

had  at  last  taken  his  advice  and  confided  in  her  family. 

"That's  just  what  she  has  not  done,"  returned  Bess- 
ington  drily!  "I  have  come  to  you  to  learn  what  is 
really  wrong." 

Shorn  of  technicalities  the  story  he  heard  was  that 
Madre  had  heart  trouble  of  a  certain  nature,  that  the 
original  enlargement  had  probably  been  caused  by 
some  great  physical  strain,  though  he  could  never  get 
her  to  confess  what  she  had  done;  that  it  was  the  sort 
of  mischief  that  might  lie  dormant  for  years  and  wake 
at  slight  provocation;  that  she  should  avoid  any  phys- 
ical fatigue  or  worry  or  mental  strain  of  any  kind. 

"She  has  been  taking  care  of  an  invalid  lately,  I 
gather,"  said  the  doctor  curtly;  "that's  very  bad  for 
her.  If  she  will  do  foolish  things  like  that  she  will 
suffer.  If  she  will  only  be  reasonable,  there  is  no 
reason  why  she  shouldn't  live  as  long  as  any  one  else. 
Every  one  dies  of  heart  failure  in  the  end,  you  know, 
however  it's  brought  about;  but  much  fewer  people 
die  of  heart  disease  than  the  public  think.  Mrs.  Crof- 
ton  has  a  splendid  constitution  and  if  she  is  sensible 
she  will  do  all  right." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  sensible?" 

The  doctor  eyed  him  curiously. 

"Lives  a  steady  even  life  without  big  excitements 
or  too  much  exercise.  Does  not  knock  about  the  world 
so  much,  or  get  so  interested  in  other  people's  affairs. 
In  short  if  she  becomes  decently  selfish." 

"You  think  that  a  simple  prescription?"  Bessington 
spoke  bitterly. 

"No,  I  think  it  nearly  an  impossible  one — for  her.  I 
am  only  advising  you  how  she  can  prolong  her  life, 
humanly  speaking,  not  how  she  can  enjoy  it." 

"It's  mere  existing  instead  of  living." 

"Yes,  to  her." 

"I  think  my  mother-in-law  would  prefer  to  live." 

"I  have  no  doubt  of  it.    She  is  that  kind  of  woman. 


262  FELICITY  CROFTON 

The  question  is,  can  we  spare  her  type  before  we 
need?" 

Bessington  flashed  round  on  him. 

"That  is  to  enjoin  selfishness  on  us  all!" 

"You  think  it  amounts  to  that?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it.  But  I  shall  do  my  best  to  see  your 
prescription  is  carried  out." 

"I  am  thankful  to  hear  it.    She  is  a  difficult  patient." 

"You  must  not  let  her  hear  you  call  her  that." 

"There  would  be  fewer  of  us  living  in  Harley  Street 
if  all  the  world  thought  as  she  does,"  the  doctor  re- 
torted. 

Bessington  left  him  satisfied  as  to  his  suitability 
as  a  doctor  for  Madre,  but  sick  at  heart  at  the  news 
he  had  gathered.  It  had  been  in  his  mind  to  ask  the 
doctor  straight  out  if  he  had  ever  prescribed  morphine 
for  Mrs.  Crofton,  but  some  loyalty  to  her  locked  his 
lips.  The  secret,  if  secret  there  was,  was  hers;  he 
must  be  satisfied  for  the  present. 

In  one  thing  he  felt  Madre  was  quite  right.  There 
was  no  need  to  worry  Veronica  over  it.  He  was  quite 
one  with  her  in  her  idea  of  sparing  Veronica  possible 
trouble. 

IV 

The  weeks  wore  away.  Spring  merged  into  sum- 
mer, and  London  flouted  its  brilliance  in  the  face  of 
the  sun,  and  faded  away  into  a  dreary  desert  of  hot 
bricks  and  airless  regions.  The  Prestons  took  a  house 
at  Camberley,  for  Adam  passed  his  exam  with  decent 
success.  Here,  in  a  large  and  well-cared- for  garden 
Stella  and  her  baby  made  rapid  progress  towards  the 
very  reasonable  ideal  that  Adam  entertained  for  them. 
The  child  was  not  particularly  strong,  but  there  was 
nothing  wrong  that  science  and  care  could  not  put 
right,  and  Adam  saw  to  it  that  both  were  given  un~ 


FELICITY  CROFTON  263 

sparingly.  Except  for  one  dark  disquieting  thought 
he  was  extremely  happy.  He  had  climbed  another 
step  on  his  ladder  of  success ;  he  had  a  son,  and  Stella 
was  fast  forgetting  that  wayward  "delicacy"  that  had 
first  invited  his  interest  in  her. 

Stella  indeed  was  changed  materially  by  the  birth 
of  her  child.  The  instinct  of  possession  rose  rampant 
in  her.  She  adored  her  house  (it  was  her  first  per- 
sonal home),  her  baby  and  her  husband.  She  pos- 
sessed them  all !  They  were  hers,  as  nothing  had  been 
hers  all  her  life.  It  was  an  expansion  of  her  own  per- 
sonality, rather  than  an  additional  enlargement  of  ex- 
istence, and  in  that  expansion,  her  poorly  developed 
soul  found  room  to  breathe  and  sustenance  for  growth. 
It  was  like  a  plant  that  had  been  repotted,  rather  than 
the  vigorous  growth  of  untrammelled  freedom !  still  it 
was  growth,  and  the  sense  of  happiness  and  security 
gained  ground.  That  strange  fear  of  Adam  was  not 
obliterated,  but  it  was  buried.  She  put  away  from  her 
with  new  found  resolution  all  thoughts  of  those  black 
days  in  the  rooms  at  Marble  Arch.  What  had  hap- 
pened there  never  could  or  should  happen  here,  in  this 
new  world  of  good  things.  It  had  been  but  a  mo- 
mentary madness,  produced  by  circumstances.  It  had 
really  nothing  to  do  with  her,  Stella  Preston,  and  it 
might  have  happened  to  any  woman. 

These  thoughts  did  occasionally  filter  through  her 
mind,  but  she  turned  from  them  as  quickly  as  she 
could.  If  in  the  dim  recesses  of  her  mind  a  quiet,  grey 
figure  stood  watching  her — and  waiting,  she  averted 
her  eyes  sharply.  She  was  not  going  to  face  it — yet  I 
Just  at  first  the  memory  of  her  promise  did  trouble 
her,  but  little  by  little  she  substituted  for  it  the  rea- 
sonableness of  getting  "strong  first."  This  was  a 
process  that  might  take  just  so  long  as  she  chose,  and 
meanwhile,  as  Felicity  never  wrote  and  never  came, 
she  chose  to  interpret  her  silence  as  consenting  to  this 


264  FELICITY  CROF.TON 

wait.     She  did  not  start  out  with  the  intention  of  re- 
pudiating it  entirely. 

And  she  gave  Adam  what  he  wanted,  or  imagined  he 
wanted  in  life!  He  found  no  limitation  in  her  aspect 
of  motherhood.  Her  beauty  grew  with  her  health, 
and  the  passion  and  colour  of  her  nature,  set  in  sane 
and  beautiful  surroundings,  stirred  unimagined  emo- 
tions hitherto  locked  in  his  soul,  which  would  other- 
wise have  perished  from  inanition.  So  the  days  sped 
on  and  to  the  one  of  them,  the  grey  waiting  figure 
grew  more  indistinct,  and  to  the  other  the  grey  mem- 
ory was  just  one  of  the  shadows,  which  life  trails  be- 
hind whether  we  will  or  no,  and  which  Time  in  turn 
gathers  up  and  folds  away. 


v 

Through  these  long  days  and  hot  months,  Felicity 
still  clung  to  her  quiet  square,  and  remote  life.  At 
first,  after  Dominic's  visit,  she  had  to  combat  a  new 
access  of  restlessness,  but  once  fought  off,  it  did  not 
reoccur.  In  spite  of  Veronica's  protests  she  stayed 
there  all  the  summer,  declaring  her  rooms  were  cool 
and  quiet,  and  that  she  saw  no  reason  for  moving. 

Veronica,  in  despair,  faced  Dominic  with  the  prob- 
lem one  evening  when  she  had  spent  the  day  with  her 
mother. 

"She  declared  she  will  not  move,  and  that  the 
thought  of  a  train  makes  her  tired!  Oh,  Dominic, 
what  can  have  happened  to  her!" 

Veronica's  face  was  tragic,  and  the  look  so  ill  fitted 
it,  that  he  was  in  haste  to  smooth  it  out. 

"I  can't  see  why  she  shouldn't  be  allowed  to  remain 
quiet  if  she  wants  to.  After  all,  Veronica,  she  has 
travelled  about  three  times  as  much  as  most  people." 

"But  the  City  all  the  summer !" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  265 

"Madre  doesn't  take  her  beliefs  second  hand.  If 
she  found  the  City  unbearable  she  would  come  away." 

"I  didn't  think  you  would  support  her." 

"I  think  she  has  a  perfect  right  to  do  as  she  likes." 

"To  do  even  foolish  things?" 

"Why  not?  If  it  pleases  her?  Are  children  to 
have  the  monopoly  of  foolishness?  Madre's  whim 
doesn't  hurt  any  one  else.  I  mayn't  think  it  wise  but 
I've  no  sort  of  right  to  prevent  her  indulging  it  if 
she  likes." 

"You  wouldn't  let  me  be  foolish,  however  much  I 
wanted  to,"  she  retorted  with  a  smile  twitching  her 
lips. 

"No,  that's  quite  different.  You  belong  to  me. 
If  you  were  foolish  I  should  be  involved." 

"Egoist !"  Then  she  saw  he  was  laughing  at  her  and 
harped  back  to  the  original  subject. 

"But  Madre  doesn't  look  well." 

"I've  told  you  the  doctor  says  the  best  thing  she 
can  do  is  to  be  quiet." 

Veronica  gave  a  little  sigh  which  was  largely  of 
content:  it  was  as  usual  comforting  to  feel  Dominic 
was  not  troubled  over  her  mother's  aberration.  She 
could  now  dismiss  it  from  her  mind  with  a  good  con- 
science, and  there  were  so  many  nice  things  to  think 
about. 

Dominic  watched  her  face  clear  with  satisfaction. 
How  right  Madre  was!  It  was  undoubtedly  Veron- 
ica's role  in  life  to  look  happy.  To  see  her  face  clouded 
was  like  seeing  the  sun  shrink  behind  a  cloud. 

They  discussed  their  own  postponed  summer  holi- 
day. They  had  been  going  to  Norway,  but  not  only 
was  it  too  late  for  that,  but  Dominic  had  determined 
that  Madre  must  not  be  left  alone  for  any  indefinite 
period.  Veronica  thought  it  a  good  time  to  put  in  a 
plea  for  an  alternative  scheme  on  which  she  had  really 
set  her  heart. 


266  FELICITY  CROFTON 

''The  Astons  wrote  this  morning,  and  they  want  us 
to  go  down  to  Harden  Court.  Patricia  and  the  chil- 
dren will  be  there  too." 

Bessington  considered  this  awhile.  He  liked  the 
Astons  and  the  Masters,  and  Harden  was  an  ideal 
place  to  visit,  still  it  would  be  visiting  and  that  meant 
comparatively  trammelled  liberty.  There  was  the  one 
advantage  that  he  could  run  up  to  town  when  he  liked 
and  look  after  Madre  without  leaving  Veronica  alone. 

"Hrs.  Aston  asked  Madre  to  come  too.  That's  why 
I  went  to  her  to-day,  but  she  won't  go,  tiresome 
thing!" 

"Did  she  write  to  Hadre  ?" 

"She  enclosed  a  note,  as  she  hadn't  her  address. 
Dominic,  I  do  wish  Hadre  would  leave  people  her 
address." 

"She'd  have  little  peace  if  she  did." 

Veronica  stood  buttoning  and  unbuttoning  his  coat, 
with  a  grave  face  again. 

"Well,  when  you  have  quite  finished  wearing  out 
my  buttonholes !" 

"I  am  sure  it  sets  people  thinking — all  kinds  of 
things — I  met  Mr.  Maughen  to-day.  He  asked  after 
Madre  in  such  a  curious  way." 

Dominic  suddenly  put  his  arms  round  her  and  held 
her  to  him. 

"Veronica,  my  dear,"  he  said,  a  little  huskily,  "it's 
one  of  the  hardest  things  in  the  world  to  let  other 
people  do  what  they  want  and  not  interfere.  I  want 
you  to  trust  Madre.  I  think  she  does  know  what 
she's  doing,  even  if  we  don't.  Don't  let's  make  it 
harder  for  her." 

"I  think  you  do  know,  don't  you?" 

She  spoke  a  little  wistfully. 

"Perhaps  I  am  beginning  to  guess.  We'll  go  to  the 
Astons,  if  you  like,  my  dear." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  267 


VI 

Bessington  used  to  go  and  see  Felicity  every  other 
evening.  This  became  an  established  thing  unless  they 
were  dining  out.  He  was  late  home  in  consequence, 
but  Veronica  did  not  complain.  Neither  did  she  ask 
questions.  She  was  aware  of  some  difficult  and  un- 
happy situation  that  was  beyond  her  to  deal  with.  It 
was  best  left  in  Dominic's  hands.  She  visited  her 
mother  often  and  carried  into  the  quiet  little  room 
the  spice  of  gaiety  and  the  small  interests  that  had 
ever  constituted  her  chief  intercourse  with  her  mother. 
Felicity  loyally  answered  her.  She  laid  not  one  item 
of  her  own  troubles  on  her  child's  shoulders,  and  she 
undoubtedly  found  much  relief  and  happiness  in  her 
visits.  Very  occasionally  she  would  come  up  to  Hamp- 
stead,  but  though  she  made  no  stipulations  it  was 
understood  there  should  be  no  one  else  there  when  she 
came.  Her  refusal  to  meet  her  old  friends  worried 
Bessington  more  than  all  else,  and  a  few  evenings 
after  his  talk  with  Veronica,  he  telephoned  to  her  that 
he  should  not  be  back  to  dinner,  dined  at  his  club  and 
motored  down  to  the  deserted  city  afterwards. 

The  little  square  was  getting  accustomed  to  the  sight 
of  his  motor  waiting  there.  Even  the  shut-up  offices 
seemed  to  blink  at  it  through  their  closed  windows  in 
a  friendly  fashion.  It  was  a  hot  July  night.  There 
were  a  few  lamps  lit  in  the  square,  but  up  in  Felicity's 
rooms  they  cast  no  light.  Bessington  found  her  lying 
on  a  sofa  by  the  open  window,  a  lamp  at  her  side 
shaded  out  of  all  use.  He  came  in  quietly,  thinking 
he  heard  a  response  to  his  knock,  but  she  had  not 
heard  it  and  started  perceptibly. 

"I  was  thinking  of  you,"  she  said,  holding  out  her 
hand  and  making  no  attempt  to  rise,  or  to  apologise. 
She  had  given  up  pretending  for  Dominic ! 


268  FELICITY  CROFTON 

After  a  few  ordinary  remarks  he  broached  the  sub- 
ject he  had  come  to  speak  about. 

"Madre,  why  not  go  to  Bath?" 

She  moved  a  little  restlessly.  If  it  had  not  been  so 
dark  he  would  have  seen  sharp  trouble  in  her  averted 
eyes. 

"I  am  quite  happy  here,  thank  you." 

"Yes,  but  for  my  own  satisfaction,  mayn't  I  know 
why  not?" 

"I  don't  think  Alexander  would  care  about  it." 

"Madre!" 

"You  see  he — believes  things !"  she  smiled  faintly. 

"I  have  heard  from  him.  He  is  most  horribly  un- 
happy that  he  should  have  hurt  you." 

"I  am  so  sorry.  I  ought  to  have  written.  I  can't 
bear  him  to  be  unhappy  when  there's  no  need." 

"He's  unhappy  because  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
deceived  by  you." 

He  spoke  in  a  low  tone;  and  she  did  not  seem  to 
hear.  She  was  gazing  out  of  the  window  into  the 
dark  sky,  darker  here  than  westward,  where  the  even- 
ing's work  was  barely  begun.  Here  the  city  had  al- 
ready stretched  herself  to  sleep. 

"Fafner  ought  to  read  more  novels,  and  go  to  more 
theatres,"  continued  Bessington  in  the  same  slow 
voice. 

"What  ever  for?" 

"To  sharpen  his  imagination.  There's  a  play  on 
now,  for  example "  He  broke  off  to  light  a  cig- 
arette. He  often  told  her  of  new  plays  and  books; 
she  said  she  preferred  it  to  reading  reviews. 

"It's  a  play  called,  'The  Baby  of  the  Family.'  It's 
about  a  very  spoilt  young  man  adored  by  his  family, 
the  world  and  his  own  wife.  The  latter  is  ill,  and 
he  becomes  bored  and  attempts  to  run  away  with  the 
wife  of  a  friend.  One  of  his  brothers,  a  Sir  Galahad 
sort  of  man,  called  Leslie,  finds  him  and  the  lady  at 


FELICITY  CROFTON  269 

an  inn,  and  sends  him  home  to  his  wife  and  offers 
to  take  the  lady  back  to  her  husband.  She  is  in  a 
bit  of  a  rage  with  him,  and  on  the  way  manages  to 
damage  his  car,  and  they  get  hung  up  in  a  village 
late  at  night.  The  next  morning  the  husband  finds 
them  there  and  puts  the  usual  construction  on  the 
matter.  To  make  it  worse  Sir  Galahad  is  his 
own  particular  friend.  Then  his  beautiful  wife 
— of  whom  one  might  think  he  might  be  thankful 
to  get  rid — chips  in  and  has  her  revenge  by  declar- 
ing that  she  and  Leslie  are  devoted  to  each  other, 
and  that  she  doesn't  in  the  least  wish  to  return  to  her 
husband.  What's  the  young  man  to  do?  He  might 
give  the  lady  the  lie,  but  it  wouldn't  be  a  very  nice 
position.  He  might  give  his  young  scoundrel  of  a 
brother  away,  but  his  wife  is  dangerously  ill,  and  he 
— Leslie,  isn't  married.  So  he  shrugs  his  shoulders 
and  lets  the  lie  be.  The  husband's  all  for  divorcing 
his  wife,  and  the  family  think  it  his  plain  duty  to 
marry  her,  which  he  emphatically  refuses  to  do.  Of 
course  this  makes  him  look  a  double-dyed  scoundrel, 
and  every  one  straightway  forgets  his  excellent  repu- 
tation and  dubs  him  villain,  and  he  has  to  put  up  with 
that  and  a  precious  sight  more.  He  just  waits  to  see 
if  his  brother's  wife  is  going  to  get  better  and  if  his 
brother  will  confess,  but  nothing  happens.  Which  just 
shows" — he  broke  off  meditatively — "how  careful  one 
should  be  about  accepting  evidence  circumstantial  that 
doesn't  dovetail  into  character.  I've  no  doubt  that 
plenty  of  things  do  happen  like  that.  Come  and  see 
it  one  evening,  Madre." 

She  did  not  answer  at  once,  but  presently  asked 
rather  suddenly: 

"What  happens  at  the  end?" 

"Oh,  the  villain  confesses,  driven  to  it  by  the  guile- 
less face  of  his  child.  That's  the  weak  part  of  the 
play.  In  real  life  he  wouldn't  have  confessed." 


FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Oh,  surely  yes,  when  he  had  had  time  to  consider !" 
When  she — I  mean  when  his  wife  was  better." 

"Not  in  real  life,  I  fear,"  he  repeated,  looking  hard 
at  the  floor;  "that  is  unless  some  one  got  at — her." 

He  said  the  last  word  very  softly,  and  barely  moved, 
so  intent  was  he  not  to  startle  her  into  caution  just  yet. 

"But  if  he  had  promised  his  brother  to  say  nothing 
he  could  do  nothing  but  wait.  Did  he  promise?" 

"Yes.  You  think  he  was  bound  by  that,  even  if  he 
had  not  quite  seen  where  it  was  leading  him?" 

"Of  course  if  his  brother  was  relying  on  it." 

"Suppose  his  brother  never  had  confessed?" 

"He'd  get  used  to  it.  Live  it  down.  There  would 
be  sure  to  be  some  one  who  believed  in  him." 

"There  wasn't — in  the  play.  And  one  person's  be- 
lieving wouldn't  make  much  difference." 

"It  would — all  the  difference !"  Her  tone  was  heart- 
felt. 

"What  seemed  to  hurt  most  was  the  way  every 
one  was  so  ready  to  believe  ill  of  him." 

"Yes,  it's  strange,  but  a  life's  reputation  will  melt 
before  rumour." 

"It  was  at  least  circumstantial  rumour.  I  shall  take 
Fafner  to  see  it." 

"Why  Fafner?" 

"To  quicken  his  imagination."  Her  eyes  looked 
doubtful,  puzzled.  Bessington  still  looked  hard  at  the 
floor. 

"I  don't  understand." 

"I  do — at  last — I  think  he  might,  too!" 

"Understand  what?"  There  was  a  note  of  anxiety 
in  her  voice. 

"What  you  are  waiting  for  ?" 

She  sat  upright,  with  a  startled  gasp. 

"Dominic,  turn  up  the  light!  I  want  to  see  you. 
What  have  I  said !" 

Her  distress  was  poignant,  and  he  obeyed  instantly. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  271 

"Dominic,  it  isn't  fair.  You  come  when  I  am  too 
tired  to  be  on  my  guard.  What  are  you  thinking  ?" 

"About  you  and — Stella.  What  fools  we  have  been. 
Of  course  it's  the  only  possible  explanation.  But  you 
haven't  betrayed  any  one.  It's  been  only  to  me.  That 
is  the  one  way  to  reconcile  facts." 

But  the  pain  and  grief  in  her  face  were  too  much 
for  him.  He  fell  on  his  knees  by  her  side,  and  caught 
her  hands  in  his. 

"Madre,  dear,  don't  look  so!  It  makes  no  differ- 
ence! I  am  at  your  command.  You  don't  think  I'd 
give  you  away  or  take  advantage.  I  can't  see  why  you 
should  do  this,  but  you  have  every  right  if  you  wish!" 
He  broke  off.  He  wanted  passionately  to  deny  that 
right  and  to  find  some  justification  for  action. 

She  turned  her  face  against  his  sleeve  and  spoke 
in  a  low  voice. 

"She  was  terribly  afraid  of  Adam.  I  promised  her 
I  wouldn't  tell  him  till  she  was  well  and  gave  me  leave. 
You  are  right  there.  That  is  what  I  have  been  wait- 
ing for.  But  if  they  are  happy  now,  and  she  doesn't 
want  to  tell,  it's  much  best  to  leave  things  as  they  are. 
I  have  been  thinking  this  for  some  time." 

"Best  that  she  should  be  false  to  her  promise  and 
you  true  to  yours?" 

He  could  not  keep  the  fierceness  out  of  his  voice, 

"It's  only  Adam  that  matters,  after  all.  I  should 
have  liked  him  to  know ;  but  it  might  make  things  all 
wrong  again  just  when  they  are  right.  .  That  would 
be  such  a  pity.  Don't  you  see,  Dominic?  But  of 
course  you  will  see  that  as  they  are  both  young  and 
have  everything  before  them,  it's  best  left  alone.  I  am 
sure  Stella  will  be  all  right  now,  and  I  am  getting  over 
minding  about  Adam.  And  then  you  never  believed 
it.  That's  what  frightened  me  at  first.  It's  not  worth 
the  trouble  of  explaining  to  any  one  else." 

"I  have  no  right  to  know,"  he  groaned.    "I  leajnt 


272  FELICITY  CROFTON 

it  by  trick  almost.  I  came  meaning  to  learn  it.  There 
is  a  play  like  that,  Madre,  but  it  was  taking  a  beastly 
advantage  of  you  so  I  can  only  do  as  you  wish,  though 
it's  not  what  I  wish  at  all." 

"But  you  will  when  you  have  had  time  to 
think." 

"No,  I  can't  do  that,  but  I  can't  all  the  same  wish 
you  to  act  one  shade  less  splendidly  than  your  beau- 
tiful self  dictates." 

"Now  that's  nonsense.  Even  in  a  play  people  do 
the  same.  I  have  no  option." 

"Make  Stella  come  and  see  you." 

"Adam  wouldn't  let  her.  Leave  me  a  bit  of  pride, 
Dominic." 

"What  are  you  leaving  yourself  in  life?" 

"Lots  of  good  things.  Don't  you  see  I  can't  go  to 
Stella  and  say  I  find  it's  too  much  for  me — Adam 
thinking  badly  of  me — so  she  must  own  up  and  let 
him  think  badly  of  her  for  a  change?  It's  out  of  the 
question." 

"Yes — for  you,  but  she  should  be  reminded." 

"And  she  would  say  I  had  broken  my  promise.  Be- 
sides, Dominic,  this  is  what  you  must  consider: 
What's  the  use?  It  would  undo  everything  and  alter 
nothing.  Even  if  Adam  takes  it  well  and  isn't  angry, 
still  it  would  spoil  his  happiness.  No,  don't  take  your 
hand  away,  Dominic ;  think  with  me.  It  would  be  the 
worst  thing  in  the  world  for  any  thing  to  come  be- 
tween them  now.  She  would  be  unhappy  again,  and 
she  has  had  such  a  bad  time  all  the  years  she  ought 
to  have  been  most  happy." 

"Madre,  I  can't  hold  a  brief  for  Stella  Preston. 
It's  not  in  human  nature.  I'd  willingly  sacrifice  her 
whole  happiness  to  give  you  a  year  of  joy." 

"But  I  could  not  have  it  like  that."' 

"I  know,  that's  the  sole  reason  why  I  give  in. 
You've  got  to  be  happy  in  your  own  way,  even  if  it 


FELICITY  CROFTON  273 

means  sacrificing  yourself,  and  I've  not  the  ghost  of  a 
right  to  prevent  you." 

She  sighed  with  relief. 

"You  make  things  feel  so  secure  again." 

He  had  to  be  content  with  that,  that  she  felt  "se- 
cure" !  But  his  heart  ached  not  for  her  generous  soul, 
but  because  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  believe  her 
sacrifice  was  well  expended. 

He  knew  the  original  rumour  was  dying  down, 
that  what  damage  it  could  do  was  spent,  but  he  also 
knew  that  Felicity's  little  world  of  trust  and  friendship 
was  shattered,  and  above  all,  that  she  was  robbed  of 
the  son  of  her  adoption.  All  that  could  be  saved  for 
her,  short  of  forcing  her  outside  the  strict  limits  of  her 
code  of  honour,  must  be  done. 

He  asked  if  he  might  not  tell  her  brother. 

"I  do  not  think  Alexander  would  see  it  as  you  do," 
she  said  slowly.  "He  would  want  to  set  things  right 
in  his  own  way.  I  mean  he  would  not  like  promis- 
ing  "  she  broke  off.  The  issues  seemed  involved. 

"I  would  not  tell  him  just  what  had  happened.  Only 
that  there  was  a  misunderstanding." 

She  winced  at  that,  remembering  how  intolerably 
that  misunderstanding  had  hurt." 

Still  Bessington  waited. 

"Let  things  be  as  they  are  till  the  end  of  the  sum- 
mer," she  pleaded.  "It  will  make  so  little  difference 
now." 

That  cut  him  to  the  heart  again,  so  that  his  own 
faithfulness  seemed  but  a  small  thing,  since  it  had 
carried  conviction  to  no  one  but  Veronica.  He  kissed 
her  hands  again,  and  she  lay  back  .very  white  and 
tired,  and  then  looked  at  him  and  smiled. 

"I'm  most  ungrateful,"  she  protested.  "Really  it 
might  have  been  much  worse,  you  know — and  there 
was  you  all  the  time." 

"Little  enough  I've  done!"  he  groaned  bitterly. 


274  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"More  than  enough.  Oh,  Dominic,  you  can't  think 
what  it  means  to  have  some  one  who  believes  in  one !" 

They  sat  silent  awhile. 

Presently  she  said :  "I've  been  thinking"  (but  she 
had  only  thought  it  those  few  moments)  "that  when 
autumn  comes  I  will  go  out  to  New  Zealand  for  a 
trip." 

"Why  New  Zealand?"  with  an  access  of  thankful- 
ness that  she  should  again  be  making  plans. 

"There's  a  woman  here,  a  Mrs.  Purley,  one  of  Mr. 
Seeler's  flock,  who  has  a  son  out  there  and  simply  longs 
to  go  out  to  him  every  minute  of  the  day.  But  she 
hasn't  the  money,  and  she  can't  face  the  journey  alone. 
Now  if  I  were  going,  I  could  look  after  her,  or  rather, 
she  could  look  after  me,  and  feel  she  was  some  good ; 
and  New  Zealand  must  be  interesting." 

He  encouraged  the  idea  merely  for  the  sake  of  get- 
ting her  interested  in  the  future.  The  old  instinct  of 
service  was  irreducible  in  her.  If  it  could  not  be  given 
to  the  young  it  must  be  given  to  the  old. 

All  the  way  back  to  Hampstead  his  mind  demanded 
why  they  had  not  all  guessed  instantly  what  was  the 
real  state  of  the  case.  It  was  so  obvious  once  one  had 
the  clue. 

In  thinking  of  Stella  he  nearly  collided  with  another 
car,  saved  himself  indeed  by  a  hair's  breadth,  and 
thought  no  more  kindly  of  Stella  Preston  for  that. 
Yet  curiosity,  rather  than  wrath,  dominated  his  mind 
with  regard  to  her.  He  found  strangeness  in  the  fact 
that  while  his  anger  with  Adam  was  still  red  hot,  for 
Stella  he  felt  a  cold  critical  interest.  He  wanted  to 
pin  her  out  and  examine  her  mind  as  if  she  were  some 
new  sort  of  insect  he  had  not  classified. 

But  Adam  he  had,  and  could  classify,  and  because 
his  motives  and  acts  were  clear,  and  in  some  way 
understandable,  Bessington  felt  a  right  to  anger.  He 
would  almost  have  liked  the  task  of  interviewing  Stella, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  275 

but  he  could  not  have  brought  himself  to  meeting 
Adam  with  any  certainty  of  keeping  the  peace. 


VII 

When  Bessington  had  gone,  Felicity  let  her  thoughts 
roam  where  they  would  in  the  now  unusual  luxury  of 
freedom.  A  great  peace  and  happiness  wrapt  her 
round,  so  that  for  the  moment  it  was  to  her  not  night 
she  looked  at  but  a  transcendent  shimmering  darkness 
more  beautiful  than  day.  Dominic  knew.  He  would 
wonder  no  more,  make  no  more  surmises.  The  weak- 
ening dread  that  hung  over  her  was  gone.  The  crown- 
ing happiness  was,  that  he  accepted  her  ruling,  and  her 
right  to  act  in  her  own  way.  She  had  braced  herself 
for  a  struggle,  and  there  had  been  practically  none. 
In  her  heart  she  had  known  that  had  he  insisted  other- 
wise, had  there  been  a  struggle,  he  would  have  won. 
She  could  not  have  stood  out  against  his  expressed 
will. 

Now  because  he  not  only  knew,  but  understood, 
the  burden  was  halved.  She  did  not  mind  in  the  least 
what  others  thought  or  had  thought.  She  could  afford 
to  admit  there  was  nothing  else  they  could  think,  since 
they  were  not  Dominic ! 

It  did  not  occur  to  her  to  come  out  of  her  retreat, 
however,  or  take  up  her  old  life  again.  Apart  from 
this  heart  trouble,  which  she  still  refused  to  consider 
as  permanent,  there  would  be  the  necessity,  if  she  re- 
turned to  her  own  world,  of  some  day  or  other  meeting 
Adam,  and  she  still  could  not  face  that  calmly.  She 
dreaded  reading  again  in  his  eyes  the  contempt  and 
disillusionment  she  had  read  there  once.  It  was  not 
that  she  felt  his  judgment  was  biased,  intolerant  and 
unsound,  but  that  he  was  Adam,  the  boy  to  whom  she 
had  given  her  mother's  heart;  and  he  had  ceased  to 
believe  in  her. 


276  FELICITY  CROFTON 

To  restore  that  belief  would  be  to  shatter  his  pres- 
ent and  future  happiness.  A  thing  unthinkable? 
Dominic  must  see  that  in  time.  She  wondered  she 
had  not  seen  it  more  clearly  herself  before  this.  If, 
as  she  believed,  maturity  gave  Stella  the  balance  she 
had  wanted,  there  was  really  no  fear  of  a  relapse, 
of  that  Felicity  was  sure,  and  on  that  she  based  all  her 
judgments. 

Dominic  was  right  in  one  thing,  she  admitted : 
Stella  would  not  confess.  "She  wasn't  made  that  way," 
was  the  excuse  she  made  for  her.  She  was  not  sure 
it  was  not  a  fortunate  thing — for  Adam.  Then  again 
consideration  even  of  Adam  faded  from  her.  All  she 
felt  most  keenly  was  centred  in  Dominic,  and  this  won- 
derful halving  of  trouble.  She  was  glad — glad  beyond 
measure  that  he  knew !  She  remembered  there  was  a 
time  when  she  had  hoped  that  Adam  would  marry 
Veronica?  So  dim  sighted  are  we  even  for  those  we 
love? 

Her  brave  soul  voyaged  to  the  stars,  now  shining 
faintly  in  the  summer  sky,  and  there  in  those  high 
realms  it  faced  possibilities,  smiled  bravely  in  their 
faces,  defied  their  power,  and  so  returned  to  earth  the 
stronger  and  steadier  for  the  flight. 

"All  the  same  I  think  I  shall  go  to  New  Zealand," 
said  Felicity  to  herself. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  277 


CHAPTER  XII 

"The  Feet  of  a  True  Friend  are  Swifter 
Than  Rumour," 


STELLA  sat  in  the  garden  under  a  clump  of  bamboos, 
with  her  baby  on  her  knees.  The  baby  should  have 
been  in  the  cot  by  her  side.  Nurse  strongly  disap- 
proved of  too  much  nursing;  but  Stella  liked  nursing 
her  son,  and  she  had  an  instinctive  feeling  that  Adam 
liked  seeing  her  hold  him;  and  Adam  would  be  back 
in  a  few  minutes.  A  new  perambulator  stood  near, 
and  Stella  was  occupied  with  considerations  of  its 
colour.  Had  she  done  well  to  choose  grey?  Would 
not  a  dark  colour  have  been  more  distinguished? 
Adam  was  going  to  take  her  to  some  College  Sports 
that  afternoon,  and  she  had  an  exceedingly  becoming 
dress  to  wear.  Also  he  had  at  last  consented  to  her 
attending  the  Staff  College  Ball  at  the  end  of  the 
month.  All  these  were  matters  productive  of  content, 
adding  to  the  general  pleasures  of  life.  Then  the 
gate  swung  open  and  Adam  came  into  the  garden,  and 
that  also  added  to  life — very  considerably. 

How  nice  he  looked  coming  up  the  path,  straight, 
and  well  built  and  beautiful;  tanned,  though  the  tan 
never  spoilt  the  clearness  of  his  complexion.  There 
were  still  old  friends  who  called  him  Eve.  Stella  was 
not  sure  that  she  approved,  but  she  saw  a  point  in  it. 

He  came  to  her,  kissed  her,  stroked  his  little  son's 
soft  face,  and  sat  down  on  the  grass  at  her  feet. 


278  FELICITY  CROFTON 

She  wanted  very  badly  to  stroke  his  hair,  but  ex- 
perience had  taught  her  wisdom  and  she  refrained. 

"I  met  poor  old  Felton  this  morning,"  he  said  pres- 
ently. "His  wife  is  dead,  you  know." 

A  faint  shadow  dimmed  Stella's  bright  vista.  Why 
had  he  mentioned  Mrs.  Felton? 

"It's  a  good  thing  for  him,  one  would  think,  but 
really  he's  awfully  cut  up." 

"Well,  I  suppose  he  was  fond  of  her."  Stella's 
voice  was  low  and  a  little  impatient. 

"One  would  think  she  had  killed  all  that  long  ago." 

"Wouldn't  you  care  for  me  any  more  if  I " 

He  gave  a  quick  angry  gesture. 

"Don't  talk  rot,  Stella,  or  imagine  disgusting 
things." 

His  face  clouded.  The  perfect  sunshine  of  their 
day  was  undoubtedly  crossed  with  shadow  now. 

Somewhere  in  the  depths  of  her  memory,  a  promise, 
an  obligation,  stirred  uneasily.  There  was  no  occa- 
sion to  do  anything,  of  course,  but  the  pressure  of  the 
memory  and  the  slight  harass  pushed  her  on. 

"But  I  should  care  for  you,  whatever  happened," 
she  said,  "and  I  want  to  feel  you'd  care  for  me  too." 

He  moved  uneasily,  not  caring  for  these  discus- 
sions. 

"If  you  were  like  Mrs.  Felton,  you  wouldn't  be  you, 
so  what's  the  use  of  talking  like  that?" 

"I  shouldn't  be  the  same  to  you?" 

"Well,  should  I  be  the  same  to  you  if  I  took  to 
house-breaking  or  wife-beating?" 

"Yes." 

"Rot,  Stella!    Stop  it.     I  don't  like  it,  old  girl." 

She  stopped,  but  at  the  back  of  her  mind  there  rested 
a  new  conviction  that  her  present  happiness  was  less 
secure  than  she  had  fancied.  She  would  think  of  these 
uncomfortable  things  no  more. 

But  she  was  not  allowed  to  put  them  aside  so  com- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  279 

pletely,  nor  to  evade  her  obligations,  without  a  better 
understanding  of  what  she  was  doing.  In  other 
words,  she  was  to  be  given  her  chance. 

Almost  the  first  person  she  and  Adam  encountered 
as  they  entered  the  college  grounds  was  Jim  Streeter, 
just  home  from  the  West  Indies,  brown,  cheery,  and 
in  splendid  spirits.  He  had  come  up  to  see  a  brother 
who  bade  fair  to  carry  off  honours  at  high  jump. 

Adam  was  delighted,  and  Stella  at  first  was  pleased 
enough,  though  she  rather  resented  his  warm  enquir- 
ies for  Mark.  It  was  not  until  they  were  at  tea,  that 
Streeter  really  disturbed  her.  Then  he  turned  rather 
abruptly  to  Adam  and  said : 

"Where's  Madre?  We  were  staying  with  the  Mere- 
diths last  week — went  there  feeling  sure  she  would  be 
there,  but  she  wasn't.  Beastly  disappointment,  and 
what's  more,  none  of  them  could  give  us  her  address. 
I  know  she  isn't  travelling,  because  I  met  some  one 
who  had  seen  her  lately." 

"The  Bessingtons  would  give  it  to  you." 

Adam  spoke  in  a  quiet,  level  voice. 

"How  do  they  get  on?  Why  on  earth  didn't  Bes- 
sington  marry  Madre?" 

"She  is  years  older  than  he  is,"  put  in  Stella 
sharply. 

"No  older  than  he  is  older  than  Veronica!  Besides, 
Madre  will  never  be  old.  However,  it's  their  affair." 

He  considered  his  tea  cup  gravely.  Obviously,  he 
had  something  else  on  his  mind,  but  whatever  it  was, 
he  desisted  from  saying  it  then,  and  allowed  the  sub- 
ject to  be  changed.  When  the  sports  were  over,  they 
walked  back  together,  Adam  having  persuaded  him  to 
come  back  to  dinner  with  them.  It  was  on  the  way 
home  that  he  again  broached  the  subject  of  Madre. 

"About  Madre,"  he  began. 

Stella  stopped  a  little  angry  protest  with  difficulty. 

"What's  that,  a  caterpillar,  Mrs.  Preston?     Never 


280  FELICITY  CROFTON 

mind,  it's  only  taken  refuge  down  your  collar;  you 
wouldn't  turn  a  harmless  caterpillar  out  at  this  hour! 
About  Madre,  Adam.  What's  wrong?  Wilson  says 
he  met  her  at  a  picture  gallery,  and  she  was  awfully 
depressed  and  would  hardly  talk  to  him  or  his  sister, 
and  yesterday  I  ran  down  to  see  old  Fafner  and  he 
said  he  hadn't  even  got  her  address.  Did  you  ever 
hear  such  nonsense?" 

"I  haven't  got  it  either,"  returned  Adam  stolidly. 

Streeter  stared  at  him  blankly. 

"Have  you  all  quarrelled  with  Madre?  Because 
if  you  have,  and  are  spoiling  for  a  fight,  I'm  your 
man!"  He  laughed  in  his  whole-hearted  way,  and 
then  because  there  was  no  response,  it  dawned  on  his 
thick  head,  that  the  subject  was  distasteful.  He  was 
both  puzzled  and  angry,  and  decided  he'd  go  and  see 
the  Bessingtons  to-morrow  and  have  it  out  with  some 
one. 

Stella  left  the  men  soon  after  dinner,  saying  she  was 
tired.  She  could  not,  in  point  of  fact,  endure  sitting 
there  waiting  for  Streeter  to  open  the  obnoxious  sub- 
ject again. 

She  went  upstairs  to  her  room  but  did  not  rest.  Her 
mind  was  busy  thrusting  back  into  its  cage  a  memory 
that  she  had  kept  severely  prisoner  all  these  days,  but 
it  was  a  little  difficult  to  set  up  the  bars  again.  Of 
course,  if  Madre — no,  she  would  not  call  her  that 
silly  name — if  Mrs.  Crofton  wasn't  well  and  didn't 
want  to  go  about,  it  really  did  not  matter  much  what 
people  were  foolish  enough  to  think.  She  didn't  be- 
lieve that  Adam  cared  so  very  much  after  all.  He 
hadn't  answered  Streeter  as  if  he  did;  and,  in  any 
case,  Adam  was  happy  as  things  were,  and  if  she  did 
anything  he  wouldn't  be  happy.  It  was  really  a  ques- 
tion of  having  her,  or  Madre,  and  of  course  he  would 
rather  have  his  wife.  Do  anything?  What  did  it 
mean  exactly?  What  would  she  do? —  But  of  course 


FELICITY  CROFTON  281 

she  wasn't  going  to  do  anything.  She  saw  at  once, 
when  she  thought  quietly,  that  it  was  not  only  impossi- 
ble, but  unwise.  It  was  quite  an  impossible  suggestion 
that  she  should  jeopardise  their  present  happiness  by 
racking  up  old  stories  that  would  at  least  cause  un- 
pleasantness. It  might  have  been  another  matter  if 
Mrs.  Crofton  had  been  related  to  Adam  but  she  was 
merely  a  friend,  or  had  been,  and  Adam  got  on  quite 
well  without  her.  If  he  had  to  choose  between  them, 
he  would  naturally  choose  to  keep  his  wife!  That  was 
the  end  of  the  matter. 

Adam  came  out  of  the  door  below  and  walked  to 
the  garden  gate  with  Streeter.  She  could  see  him  in 
the  moonlight.  How  nice  he  looked — but  he  had  to 
be  kept  nice.  Stella  made  up  her  mind  it  was  her 
chief  business  to  keep  him  so. 


II 

"I  never  feel  it  is  quite  nice  of  you  all  to  go  on  as 
usual  when  we  are  all  exiles,"  remarked  Mrs.  Saun- 
ders,  half  laughing,  half  wistfully. 

"It  looks  a  bearable  exile,"  returned  her  friend, 
just  out  from  England  on  a  visit. 

Looking  round  the  long  low  room  with  its  essen- 
tially English  furniture,  its  ribbon  bedecked  cushions, 
its  photographs,  its  chintz-covered  chairs,  its  many 
indifferent  little  water  colours  and  collections  of  all 
sorts,  it  was  difficult  to  imagine  oneself  more  than 
fifty  miles  from  London  at  the  most.  Only  up  in 
the  ceiling  the  punka  fans  waved  automatically,  and 
the  windows  were  shaded  and  darkened  in  an  un- 
English  way. 

Afternoon  tea  was  going  on,  though  it  was  supple- 
mented by  iced  drinks,  and  whiskies  and  sodas.  Of 
the  two  women  and  three  women  who  occupied  the 


282  FELICITY  CROFTON 

room,  three  belonged  to  the  house,  and  two,  both 
men,  were  visitors.  One  was  Mark  Forrester,  and  he 
sat  near  his  hostess,  saying  little,  but  listening  with 
interest  to  the  news  of  "home"  which  a  fresh  arrival, 
a  Miss  Chancely,  was  dealing  out  in  a  wholesale  man- 
ner. 

"It's  bearable,  but  it's  not  'home.'  "  Mrs.  Saunders 
insisted.  "Go  on,  Mabel,  what  did  you  do  in  the 
spring?  Did  the  Maughens  have  their  usual  'spring 
gathering'  ?" 

"Yes,  more  than  ever,  but  it  wasn't  quite  such  fun 
as  usual;  I  don't  know  why." 

"Who  was  there?" 

Miss  Chancely  ran  off  a  long  list  of  names,  and  her 
friends  ticked  them  off  with  a  little  nod  of  recogni- 
tion. "All  the  old  set!  Lucky  creatures;  but  you've 
forgotten  Mrs.  Crofton." 

"She  wasn't  there." 

"Not  there?"  Her  voice  was  incredulous.  "But  a 
party  without  her  is  unheard  of." 

Miss  Chancely  took  some  more  bread  and  butter 
and  maintained  a  silence  that,  whatever  it  was  intended 
to  convey,  was  not  noncommittal. 

"She  isn't  ill,  is  she?"  demanded  Mrs.  Saunders 
quickly,  but  she  turned  to  Mark  Forrester  as  she  spoke 
for  an  answer. 

"I  was  just  going  to  ask  Miss  Chancely  that.  I 
have  not  heard  from  her  for  over  three  months." 

Miss  Chancely  still  devoted  herself  to  her  tea.  "I 
don't  think  she  is  ill  exactly,  she  just  wasn't  there." 

Neither  of  her  listeners  was  to  be  diverted.  Saun- 
ders himself,  the  thin  long-legged  man  who  had  been 
talking  to  the  doctor,  was  an  old  pupil  of  Mr.  Fraser's, 
and  on  hearing  Mrs.  Crofton's  name,  had  come  over 
to  the  little  group  near  the  tea  table. 

"What's  that  you  were  saying?  Anything  wrong 
with  Mrs.  Crofton?" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  283 

Miss  Chancely  began  to  wish  she  had  concealed  her 
knowledge  of  Mrs.  Crofton's  movements.  She  was 
not  an  especial  friend  of  hers,  like  these  others,  but 
she  liked  her,  and  they  all  did  more  than  like  her.  It 
was  an  awkward  situation ;  still  she  had  created  it  her- 
self, and  must  face  it. 

"I  don't  really  think  there  is  anything  the  matter, 
you  know.  Only,  Mrs.  Crofton  hasn't  been  well,  they 
say,  and  isn't  going  about." 

"The  last  time  I  heard  of  her  she  was  going  to 
Italy,  taking  a  villa,  and  proposed  taking  a  party  of 
girls  with  her."  This  was  from  Mark  Forrester. 

"Yes— well,  she  didn't  go.  They  couldn't,  or  some- 
thing." 

Miss  Chancely  was  obviously  frightened.  She  had 
sudden  recollections  that  the  Prestons  were  somehow 
related  to  Mr.  Forrester,  of  whom  she  felt  rather  in 
awe,  and  it  complicated  matters.  It  was  Mrs.  Saunders 
who  saw  as  much  and  rather  cleverly  turned  back 
the  talk  to  other  subjects.  Mark  Forrester  stayed 
rather  later  than  usual,  and  before  he  went,  he  man- 
aged to  find  time  for  a  private  word  with  Mrs.  Saun- 
ders. 

"You  are  a  good  sort,  and  you've  done  many  kind 
things  for  me.  Do  another,"  he  said  urgently. 

"Well?" 

"Find  out  for  me  what's  amiss  with  Madre." 

"Mrs.   Crofton?" 

"Yes." 

Mrs.  Saunders  considered  a  moment  and  then  gave 
the  promise. 

Three  days  later  she  wrote  and  asked  him  to  come 
to  tea  again.  This  time  he  found  her  alone.  Saunders 
and  Miss  Chancely  had  gone  out. 

"I  sent  them  out,"  she  admitted  frankly.  "I  found 
out  what  you  wanted  to  know,  and  you  won't  like  it, 
and  I  thought  if  you  were  going  to  get  in  a  temper 


284  FELICITY  CROFTON 

over  it,  you'd  better  do  it  alone.  George  has  got  over 
his." 

"You  told  him?" 

"Of  course.  You  are  not  the  only  person  in  the 
world  interested  in  Mrs.  Crofton,  my  dear  man!  Now 
sit  quiet,  and  don't  swear  more  than  you  can  help. 
George  did. 

"Miss  Chancely  says  there  is  a  story  going  round, 
that  while  Mrs.  Crofton  was  staying  with  Mrs.  Pres- 
ton, her  husband,  Adam  Preston,  found  out  that  she 
was  taking  drugs,  and  wouldn't  let  her  stay  there  even, 
and  somehow  the  story  got  about.  I  believe  he  denies 
mentioning  it,  but  the  Maughens  and  others  heard  of 
it  somehow,  and  wouldn't  let  their  girls  go  out  to 
Italy  with  Mrs.  Crofton,  and  she  took  it  hardly,  and 
went  away  into  the  country,  and  though  the  Bessing- 
tons  have  done  all  they  can  to  deny  it,  still,  there  it  is. 
There  are  odd  circumstances,  and  Mrs.  Crofton  can't 
or  won't,  even  write  to  her  friends!  You  have  not 
heard  from  her  yourself,  you  said!" 

She  tried  to  end  in  a  light  vein,  and  looked  at  him 
with  a  rather  pleading  attempt  to  get  him  to  see  the 
smallness  of  the  affair,  but  her  heart  jumped  at  the 
sight  of  his  suddenly  hardened  face. 

He  got  up  and  put  down  the  cup  he  held,  and  looked 
at  his  watch  mechanically. 

"You  are  not  going  yet?"  she  managed  to  say 
with  an  admirable  pretence  that  she  had  noticed 
nothing. 

"I  must  catch  my  chief — when  can  I  see  Miss 
Chancely?" 

"She  won't  want  to  talk  about  it.  She  wishes 
already  she  had  never  mentioned  it." 

"She  must  talk.  I  must  have  it  as  much  first  hand 
as  possible." 

"You  take  it  so  seriously.  After  all,  heaps  of 
women  take  drugs.  It's  not  so  awful," 


FELICITY  CROFTON  285 

"Isn't  it?  Have  you  ever  met  any  one  who  did? 
Any  one  you  cared  for?" 

His  voice  was  stern  and  bitter.  She  would  much 
rather  he  had  sworn — like  George. 

"No  one  I  knew  intimately,  but  still " 

"Mrs.  Crofton  doesn't  take  drugs,  anyhow,"  he 
went  on  quietly,  "and  that's  not  the  sort  of  thing  to 
be  said  about  any  woman  when  it's  not  true." 

"My  dear  Mark,  how  can  you  know?  You  haven't 
seen  her  for  three  years." 

"Twenty  years  wouldn't  have  made  any  difference. 
Please  ask  Miss  Chancely  to  see  me  this  evening,  if 
you  can." 

She  was  really  rather  alarmed  at  him,  and  wanted 
him  gone,  so  she  promised. 

She  discussed  the  matter  with  her  husband  while 
they  dressed  for  dinner. 

"Forrester's  an  odd  chap,"  he  remarked;  "he 
wouldn't  take  things  like  that  without  reason.  Of 
course  it's  all  damn  rot,  as  I  said  this  morning." 

"You  said  more  than  that,"  remarked  his  wife  softly. 

"Well,  perhaps  I  did." 

"Forrester  was  a  special  protege  of  hers,  I've  heard, 
and  so  was  Preston.  They  were  both  after  my  time, 
but  I  met  them  at  old  boys'  matches,  and  her  too. 
She's  a  good  sort.  I  believe  she  nearly  adopted  Pres- 
ton." 

"Well,  then,  he  wouldn't  let  this  story  get  about  if 
it  wasn't  true." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Anyhow,  if  Forrester  wants 
to  do  something,  you'd  better  back  him  up." 

Mark  had  his  interview  with  Miss  Chancely,  who 
took  great  pains  to  impress  on  him  that  she  was  only 
relating  hearsay  at  his  special  request. 

"I  quite  understand  that,"  he  told  her  somewhat 
grimly;  "it's  only  hearsay,  but  it's  got  to  be  heard  to 
be  stopped." 


286  FELICITY  CROFTON 

He  gathered  a  little  more  from  this  interview,  learnt 
that  Madre  had  been  supposed  to  be  seedy  for  some 
time,  and  that  this  rumour  had  come  on  the  top  of  a 
vague  wonder  amongst  her  friends ;  heard  that  many 
of  those  friends  later  on  had  steadily  put  their  faces 
against  the  rumour,  but  too  late  to  do  any  real  good, 
and  that  Mrs.  Crofton's  own  action  in  refusing  to  go 
about  or  meet  people,  had  made  refutation  even  more 
difficult;  that  the  Bessingtons  would  not  mention  the 
subject,  and  appeared  to  be  satisfied  that  Mrs.  Crofton 
should  retire  from  her  usual  social  life  if  she  wished 
to;  that  they  and  the  Prestons  were  not  on  speaking 
terms.  Here  Mark  rather  took  her  aback  by  asking: 
"Where  are  the  Prestons?" 

"They  are  at  Camberley;  he's  m  the  staff  college, 
and  Mrs.  Preston  and  the  baby  flourish  exceedingly. 
Their  cousin,  Miss  Mitchen,  is  a  great  friend  of  moth- 
er's," Miss  Chancely  explained;  "that's  how  it  is  I 
know  so  much  of  them." 

She  was  still  puzzling  in  her  mind  what  was  the  pre- 
cise connection  of  Mr.  Forrester  to  the  Prestons.  It 
must  be  slight,  or  he  would  have  known  their  address. 

Mark  made  a  note  of  the  address. 

"Your  mother  knows  Mrs.  Crofton,  too,  I  think?" 
he  asked. 

"Oh,  yes,  but  not  intimately.  She  met  her  at  the 
Massinghams'." 

Mark  got  up  and  shook  himself,  and  looked  down 
at  Miss  Chancely  speculatively. 

"When  you  write  to  your  mother,  Miss  Chancely, 
will  you  tell  her  that  the  rumour  about  Mrs.  Crofton 
is  quite  unfounded,  and  will  she  contradict  it  flatly?" 

"On  your  authority?" 

"Yes.  I  know  how  it  got  about,  you  see,  and  it's 
got  to  be  set  right.  It's  quite  untrue." 

"You  will  have  to  make  Adam  Preston  believe  that 
to  do  any  good." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  287 

"He's  going  to  believe  it,"  returned  Mark,  so  grimly, 
that  Miss  Chancery  was  startled  into  uneasy  convic- 
tion not  only  of  his  sincerity,  but  of  something  behind 
it  she  could  not  name. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand.  "Don't 
forget  to  tell  your  mother  that — and  I  hope  you'll 
have  a  good  time  out  here." 

She  really  found  nothing  to  say  to  him,  though  she 
found  plenty  to  think  about.  Mrs.  Saunders  was  very 
annoyed  to  come  in  ten  minutes  later  and  find  her 
alone  and  Mark  gone. 

"I  wanted  him  particularly  to  settle  up  about  the 
picnic,"  she  complained,  but  her  friend  could  only 
say  he  had  gone  before  she  could  think  of  any  other 
subject  for  conversation. 

Mrs.  Saunders  was  still  more  annoyed  and  amazed 
when  her  husband  came  in  that  evening,  and  told  her 
that  mad  fellow  Forrester  had  been  to  his  chief  and 
commandeered  three  months  leave  on  important  busi- 
ness. 

"The  cheek  of  it!"  growled  Saunders,  struggling 
with  a  refractory  collar. 

"Whatever  did  Lord  Luden  say?"  she  asked. 

"That's  the  most  maddening  part  of  it.  He  said 
yes!" 

"He's  let  him  go?"  echoed  Mrs.  Saunders,  staring 
open  mouthed  and  open  eyed  at  her  husband. 

"Let  him  go!  He  wired  within  half  an  hour  to 
Bombay  for  a  berth  in  the  first  boat,  and  he's  starting 
to-night!  That  young  man  will  go  far,  Winifred." 

"As  far  as  England,  it  seems,"  she  retorted  drily. 

"Further  than  that,"  chuckled  Saunders.  "I  ask 
you,  is  Luden  the  sort  of  man  who  gives  his  secre- 
taries leave  off  on  demand?" 

"It's  incredible!" 

"It's  blackmail,  nothing  short,"  laughed  Saunders. 
"That's  why  I  said  he'd  go  far," 


288  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"George,  you  are  most  indiscreet." 

"Winifred,  you  have  lost  your  sense  of  humour." 

"I  have.  If  Mark's  gone,  I  shall  give  up  my  picnic. 
He  might  have  come  to  say  good-bye.  What  has  he 
gone  for?" 

"How  should  I  know." 

"It's  Mrs.  Crofton,"  pronounced  his  wife  with  de- 
cision. "I  am  sure  of  it." 

"Rot!  A  man  doesn't  tear  off  to  England  because 
some  one  spreads  tales  he  doesn't  like  about  a  woman 
nearly  old  enough  to  be  his  mother." 

"Mark  would." 

She  could  not  convince  him. 

Yet  the  truth  was  Mark  got  his  leave  because  he 
told  Lord  Luden  exactly  why  he  wanted  it,  and  Luden 
had  known  Mrs.  Crofton  in  past  days. 


in 

Felicity  languidly  turned  over  a  guide  to  New  Zea- 
land. On  a  paper  besides  her  there  were  some  rough 
calculations  set  down,  but  she  was  not  greatly  inter- 
ested in  either  the  one  or  the  other.  She  had  just 
returned  from  a  call  on  Mrs.  Seeler.  There  had  been 
several  other  callers,  mostly  old  or  at  least  elderly. 
They  had  talked  a  great  deal  about  the  foolishness  of 
the  young,  and  Felicity,  looking  at  them,  had  wondered 
what  they  found  to  compensate  for  the  irreparable 
loss  of  what  they  condemned.  But  she  said  nothing, 
for  what  was  the  use,  if  in  their  hearts  they  had  not 
realised  their  passing  touch  with  splendour,  and  the 
possibilities  the  years  had  stifled  in  them?  Mrs.  Pur- 
ley,  who  wanted  (but  in  rather  a  half-hearted  manner 
when  it  came  to  the  point)  to  go  to  New  Zealand,  was 
amongst  them.  She  also  accepted  her  age,  as  bestow- 
ing honour  on  her  rather  than  robbing  her  of  rights. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  289 

She  accepted  it  as  she  accepted  her  indifferent  health, 
as  something  expected  and  appropriate. 

When  she  left  Felicity  had  made  a  slight  protest 
against  this  attitude  to  Mr.  Seeler,  who  accompanied 
her  to  the  door. 

"Age  might  be  so  beautiful  if  coupled  to  the  right 
things,"  she  said  wistfully. 

"What  are  the  right  things?"  he  asked  gravely. 

"Joy  and  appreciation,  and  understanding  of 
youth!"  she  answered  promptly. 

Her  eyes  pleaded  for  agreement,  but  he  shook  his 
head. 

"Age  means  more  than  that,  Mrs.  Crofton." 

"Yes,  it  means  accepting  the  fact  that  one  has  lost 
the  game  with  a  good  heart  and  never  discouraging 
others!" 

"Life  isn't  a  game." 

"It's  a  puzzle.  Age,  like  death,  is  a  mistake  that  we 
have  never  yet  found  the  way  to  avoid ;  but  some  day, 
some  young  thing  will  find  it  out." 

He  looked  and  was  shocked. 

"Death  and  age  are  part  of  life  and  inevitable." 

"Christ  did  not  think  so;  did  not  think  them  inev- 
itable or  eternal  truths,"  she  replied,  with  that  swift- 
ness that  he  had  learned  to  dread;  "and  if  age  were 
the  desideratum  of  the  earth,  it  would  hold  most 
joy  and  most  knowledge,  and  in  that  case  Christ 
would  havei  waited  another  twenty  years  before  teach- 
ing." 

He  looked  more  shocked  than  ever. 

"Those  are  not  very  safe  ideas,  Mrs.  Crofton." 

He  was  profoundly  sorry  for  her,  and  anxious  to 
help  her  into  safe  or  orthodox  paths,  but  so  far  he 
had  failed,  and  he  knew  it,  and  it  humiliated  him. 

"If  I  really  left  off  wanting  things,  or  caring  about 
seeing  things,  or  seeing  others  do  them,  which  is  the 
next  best  thing,  I  would  much  rather  die," 


2QO  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"That  is  not  in  our  hands." 

She  still  had  one  more  bolt  for  him,  and  she  shot  it. 

"I  wonder!  Sometimes  I  think  we  have  more  to 
say  in  the  matter  than  we  think!" 

It  left  him  speechless,  only  relieved  that  she  should 
go.  Instinctively  she  knew  she  had  more  than  shocked 
him,  and  she  turned  penitently  on  the  step. 

"You  mustn't  mind  my  saying  things  I  think,  even 
if  you  don't  agree.  There  are  some  things  which  are 
much  more  alive  when  they  are  spoken  than  when  they 
are  thought,  and  they  want  to  be  alive." 

That  was  why  she  got  out  the  guide  books  when  she 
got  back.  She  wanted  to  make  quite  sure  she  was 
interested  in  things. 

But  she  pushed  them  away. 

After  all,  it  was  not  the  journey  against  which  her 
mind  rebelled,  but  the  companion  with  whom  it  would 
be  undertaken. 

"She  will  always  be  looking  at  things,  not  taking 
part  in  them,"  she  murmured  with  a  sort  of  despair. 
"And  even  then  she  will  be  thinking  how  much  wiser 
she  is  than  those  foolish  young  things !  Now  I  don't 
mind,  or  don't  much  mind,  looking  on,  but  I  shall 
understand  how  lovely  it  is,  and  I  want  my  companion 
to  be  taking  part  in  it.  Yet  the  voyage  would  be  so 
good  for  her  if  she  would  take  it!" 

But  she  herself  to-day  could  not  face  the  prospect  of 
life  tied  to  unappreciative  age.  It  was  not  age  itself 
against  which  she  fought,  but  that  self-appreciation 
that  had  let  go  its  vision  and  remembered  nothing  of 
the  glory  of  it. 

"I  will  not  get  like  that !  I  will  not !"  she  repeated 
again  and  again.  "I  will  let  myself  die  first!" 

She  turned  to  the  papers  and  found  herself  lan- 
guidly interested,  indifferent  to  news  that  would  once 
have  interested  her,  until  she  came  to  a  paragraph 
announcing  the  marriage  of  Rosalind  Meredith  to 


FELICITY  CROFTON  291 

young  Harmore.  Rosalind  had  never  written  to  tell 
her  she  was  even  engaged !  She  had  loved  her  best  of 
all  the  girls,  and  she  did  not  like  this  marriage  for 
she  knew  Rosalind's  heart  was  set  elsewhere.  If  only 
she  had  known  in  time!  It  wouldn't  bear  thinking 
about!  .... 

She  tried  instead  to  think  of  the  sea,  of  yellow  sands 
and  dancing  water,  of  racing  wind  and  cool  woods; 
but  none  of  these  things  moved  her  to-day  to  an 
answering  throb  of  desire. 

She  was  conscious  of  weariness  and  oppression. 
When  she  came  to  think  of  it,  there  was  nothing  young 
in  all  the  house!  Nothing  in  all  the  Square — unless 
it  were  the  sparrows!  There  was  Mr.  Carey  down- 
stairs. Old,  quite  old.  There  was  Mr.  Mears.  Only 
thirty-seven,  according  to  his  wife!  According  to 
Felicity,  he  must  be  one  hundred  and  thirty-seven! 
There  was  Mrs.  Mears  herself,  with  her  inward  fund 
of  cheerful  optimism,  but  with  her  hair  growing  grey 
in  spite  of  it,  and  lines  pencilling  the  corners  of  her 
eyes,  far  older  than  her  years  warranted.  There  were 
clerks — young  men,  some  young,  some  old,  in  the  big 
office  across  the  way,  but  if  they  were  young,  they 
lacked  the  grace  of  youth.  She  never  saw  their 
rounded  figures  and  dull  faces,  without  an  heart  ache 
for  a  sight  of  Adam's  fresh,  clear,  satisfying  beauty 
and  easy  energy.  The  Seelers  had  children,  but  they 
were  already  teaching  in  Sunday  schools  and  collect- 
ing for  open  air  funds,  fed  already  with  the  respon- 
sibilities of  life. 

No!  The  Square  held  nothing  young!  That  was 
what  was  the  matter  with  her! 

She  would  go  and  see  Veronica.  It  was  the  only 
satisfactory  thing  left,  that  there  was  always  Veronica, 
young,  and  not  entangled  in  responsibilities.  There 
was  no  one  else  left  to  see.  They  wouldn't  trust  her 
with  youth  now.  Not  even  with  Rosalind!  She 


292  FELICITY  CROFTON 

stretched  out  her  hands,  looking  at  them  piteously. 
They  seemed  to  her  suddenly  grown  empty ! 

Felicity  dropped  her  hands  on  her  lap.  No,  she 
would  not  go  to  Hampstead.  She  was  too  tired,  and 
what  did  it  matter !  It  was  no  use.  She  was  getting 
old  like  the  rest  of  the  world.  She  was  tired,  tired, 
tired ! 

IV 

Mark  deserted  the  boat  at  Brindisi,  and  travelling 
overland  arrived  in  London  two  days  later  at  the  un- 
toward hour  of  seven-thirty. 

He  found  an  hotel,  breakfasted,  and  as  early  as  was 
permissible  he  went  to  The  Temple. 

When  Bessington  arrived  he  was  told  a  gentleman 
was  already  waiting  to  see  him. 

"A  Mr.  Forrester,"  explained  the  clerk  rather  ner- 
vously, lest  he  should  have  done  wrong  to  admit  so 
early  a  visitor.  He  said  he  was  a  friend  of  yours." 

"Quite  so,"  said  Bessington  absently. 

He  stopped  for  a  minute  outside  the  door  to  weigh 
the  possibilities  of  this  visit.  There  might  be  a  hun- 
dred reasons  for  Mark's  return,  but  he  could  think  of 
only  one  for  his  early  appearance  at  his  door.  His 
mind  at  least  jumped  to  this  one  conclusion,  and  there 
was  a  deep  ring  of  truth  in  his  first  greeting  to  Mark : 

"No  man  in  the  world  more  welcome." 

Mark  looked  him  steadily  in  the  face. 

"Can  you  guess  what  I  have  come  for?" 

"An  address,  isn't  it?  How  do  you  happen  to  be 
in  England?" 

"I  heard  something  I  didn't  like  in  India,  and  I've 
come  to  set  it  right."  Mark  spoke  shortly.  "I  want 
Madre's  address." 

"You  came  all  the  way  for  that?" 

"It's  a  mistake.     It's  got  to  be  put  right." 

Bessington  took  up  his  pen  and  began  to  draw  odd 


FELICITY  CROFTON  293 

shapes  on  a  blotter.    After  a  moment's  silence  he  said : 

"I  am  glad  you  can  put  it  right.  I  never  believed  it 
for  a  minute,  of  course." 

"Other  people  have,  apparently.  I  want  you  to  tell 
me  just  how  much  damage  has  been  done." 

Bessington  looked  at  the  thin,  bronzed  face  before 
him.  Why  on  earth,  if  Madre  must  needs  play  at 
having  a  son,  couldn't  she  have  set  her  affection  on 
Mark  instead  of  Adam? 

"I  came  overland  from  Brindisi,"  said  Mark,  as 
one  disposing  of  a  secondary  subject  to  clear  the 
ground.  "I  have  to  save  days,  as  I've  got  not  quite 
two  months'  leave.  That's  why  I  came  to  you  first 
for  the  address." 

Bessington  nodded,  but  still  he  did  not  give  it. 

He  appreciated  to  the  full  the  other's  singleness  of 
purpose,  but  what  would  Madre  say? 

"How  did  you  hear  about  it?"  he  asked. 

Mark  told  him,  still  without  waste  of  a  single  word, 
in  no  haste,  and  in  a  perfectly  even  voice. 

"I  might  have  written,"  he  concluded,  "but  Stella 
has  been  too  much  for  me  before,  and  it  was  quicker 
and  safer  to  come.  It  was  Stella,  of  course,  and  not 
Madre  who  took  the  stuff.  Morphine,  I  suppose.  She 
took  it  years  ago,  though  I  thought  she  was  cured.  I 
don't  know  in  the  least  why  Madre  took  it  on  herself, 
unless  to  save  Stella  a  row  with  Preston.  She  must 
have  found  Stella  out,  and  tried  to  shield  her.  Prob- 
ably Stella  got  some  promise  out  of  her.  That  is  all 
I  can  make  of  it.  It's  preposterous  that  Madre  should 
suffer  in  the  least  for  Stella,  and  of  course,  it  can't  be 
allowed  to  go  on.  That's  my  story.  What's  yours  ?" 

There  was  no  bitterness  in  his  tone,  only  a  drear 
acceptance  of  facts,  that  told  Bessington  bitterness  had 
worn  itself  out  with  the  years.  He  was  profoundly 
sorry  for  Mark,  and  touched  to  the  quick  by  his  act  of 
direct  chivalry,  as  something  which  concerned  not  only 


294  FELICITY  CROFTON 

Madre  but  himself.  All  the  same  he  answered  him 
guardedly. 

"Madre  herself  told  me  nothing.  But  there  is  no 
doubt  you  are  right.  She  must  have  made  a  promise 
to  your  sister.  How  it  came  out  no  one  knows.  Adam 
swears  he  told  no  one.  I  fear  I  did  not  believe  him. 
It's  easy  for  us  to  say  it's  preposterous,  but  the  wicked- 
ness of  it  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  surface  story  is  true, 
you  see.  Adam  did  find  the  morphine  and  the  rest  of 
it,  and  Madre  did  claim  them,  and  Adam  did  turn  her 
out — intolerant  young  brute!  With  that  start  it  was 
not  possible  to  do  much  when  one  had  so  little  to  go 
on  but  personal  conviction." 

He  felt  as  if  he  were  on  his  defence  before  this  plain 
dealing  man  who  had  travelled  six  thousand  miles  to 
kill  a  rumour  concerning  a  woman  he  loved  and  re- 
spected. He  moved  his  chair  a  little,  so  that  he  was 
not  bound  to  look  directly  at  Mark,  for  after  all  it 
was  not  pleasant  to  have  tacitly  to  admit  one's  sister 
had  neither  conscience  nor  morals.  But  Mark  was 
unmoved :  he  merely  shifted  one  leg  over  the  other. 

"Madre  took  it  to  heart  rather  badly,  I  fear.  First 
Adam's  believing  her  what  she  told  him, — which  was 
like  a  woman!  And  more  because  he  behaved  badly 
to  her.  (Not  that  you  will  ever  get  her  to  admit 
that — I  am  telling  you  what  I  think  her  feelings  were.) 
Then  came  the  Merediths  and  the  rest  of  them  with 
their  letters  and  excuses,  and  she  could  do  nothing. 
He  went  to  see  Fafner,  and  Fafner — I  suppose  he  was 
caught  by  the  way  she  put  it — was  angry,  and  said 
things  he  repented  afterwards. — You  can  guess  all 
that!" 

Mark  nodded. 

"Anyhow,  after  that  she  wouldn't  see  any  one  for 
ages.  Then  I  found  her,  and  she  became  more  sen- 
sible, and  people  began  to  be  a  bit  ashamed  of  them- 
selves, but  she  still  wouldn't  go  about,  Couldn't,  really, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  295 

and  didn't  want  to  own  it.  Her  chief  trouble  now  is 
that,  though  most  people  would  be  the  same  to  her  if 
they  met  her,  they  still  wouldn't  let  their  children  come 
to  her  as  they  used  to  do,  while  she  has  no  explanation 
to  give.  That's  what  hurts  her.  It  cuts  her  off  from 
young  things!" 

Mark  moved  restlessly. 

"Well,  it's  going  to  be  explained." 

"If  she  will  let  you!" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"She  doesn't  want  any  explanation  now,  because  she 
says  it  would  be  much  harder  for  Adam  not  to  be  angry 
with  your  sister  after  all  this  time,  and  that  as  they 
are  very  happy  together  she  won't  risk  breaking  that 
happiness." 

"Happiness  that  isn't  deserved!"  returned  Mark, 
with  a  short  laugh. 

"Madre  isn't  well,  Mark.  I  am  not  sure  that  you 
can  argue  it  out  with  her.  That  was  another  nail  for 
the  rumour  to  hammer  on.  She  hasn't  been  herself 
for  some  time,  and  though  we  all  noticed  it,  she 
wouldn't  own  up.  She  has  some  heart  trouble,  and  it's 
taking  the  energy  out  of  her.  That,  and  the  position 
of  things  together.  I  am  not  at  all  sure  she  will  let  you 
do  anything." 

"Then  I'll  convince  Stella  first." 

His  lips  shut  like  a  trap. 

"All  you  can  do  there  without  upsetting  Madre,  is 
to  make  her  release  Madre  from  her  promise." 

"Yes.  I'll  do  that."  He  got  up  and  stared  out  of 
the  window. 

"There's  one  thing  I  might  tell  you,  Bessington. 
When  Stella  married  I  stipulated  with  her  that  she 
should  tell  Adam  about  this  old — failing,  of  hers.  And 
because  I  guessed  that  Stella  funked  it,  I  wrote  to 
Madre  and  asked  her  to  back  Stella  up.  I  honestly 
thought  there  was  no  chance  of  the  trouble  cropping 


296  FELICITY  CROFTON 

up  again,  but  Preston  was  my  best  friend,  and  he  had 
the  right  to  know.  Stella,  I  suppose,  told  Madre  just 
as  much  of  her  story  as  she  wanted  to,  and  Madre, 
without  entering  into  particulars,  just  wrote  to  me  and 
said  it  was  all  told  and  settled.  Stella  never  wrote  at 
all.  Stella  never  could  run  straight.  I  meant  to  see 
Madre  first,  to  find  out  just  what  Stella  did  tell  her,  so 
as  to  know  where  I  was  with  Stella,  because  if  Adam 
really  did  know  this,  and  swallowed  Madre's  tale  he's 
more  crassly  stupid  than  I  thought.  He  never  could 
see  more  than  two  issues  to  anything,"  he  went  on,  in 
a  ruminating  way,  "a  right  and  a  wrong.  Life's  simple 
enough  when  one  only  sees  that!" 

"It's  apt  to  make  it  very  uncomfortable  for  other 
people,"  began  Bessington  hotly. 

Mark  looked  at  him  with  lifted  brows. 

"Preston  would  never  be  concerned  with  other  peo- 
ple!" 

"I  thought  he  was  your  friend?" 

"Friends  aren't  necessarily  saints.  Besides,  one  must 
be  fair.  The  blame  does  not  rest  with  him." 

"That's  where  we  differ,  Mark.  My  quarrel  with 
Preston  is  that  he  believed  this  of  Madre.  It  was  that 
which  hurt  her  most.  Also  I  had  believed  it  was  he 
who  gave  the  story  away,  but  I  suppose,"  he  admit- 
ted it  grudgingly,  "there  are  other  possibilities." 

"I  am  afraid  so.  There  shouldn't  have  been  any- 
thing to  give  away.  The  fault  is  mine  for  not  having 
written  to  Preston  myself  when  they  were  married. 
I  didn't  because  I  thought  it  would  come  better  from 
her — but  it  leaves  me  responsible.  Now  please  what's 
Madre's  address?' 

"She  has  been  living  in  the  city  with  one  of  her  pro- 
teges, a  Mrs.  Mears.  Yesterday  I  was  telephoned  for 
her  by  Mrs.  Mears.  Madre  had  had  an  extra  bad  faint- 
ing attack.  I  insisted  on  taking  her  up  to  Hampstead 
in  the  evening,  and  she's  there  now." 


FELICITY  CROFTON  297 

Mark  tried  to  hide  his  anxiety,  but  failed. 

"How  bad  is  she?" 

"She  is  well  over  it  now,  but  no  one  knows  how 
long  she  will  keep  well,  you  see.  She  has  had  this 
trouble  for  three  or  four  years,  and  has  been  fighting 
it  off.  Her  doctor  says  it  must  have  started  by  some 
unusual  physical  strain,  but  she  won't  tell  what  it  was, 
even  if  she  knows.  You  know  how  she  hates  being 
thought  ill." 

"Is  it — dangerous?" 

"Not  immediately.  He  says  if  she  leads  a  perfectly 
quiet  life,  and  doesn't  wear  herself  out  doing  the  things 
she  likes  doing,  travelling  and  looking  after  people, 
for  example,  she  may  live  as  long  as  any  of  us.  If 
she  does  do  what  she  likes  doing,  he  will  answer  for 
nothing." 

There  was  excessive  bitterness  in  his  voice,  and 
Mark  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"You  will  not  find  it  easy  to  make  her  do  nothing." 

"No."    The  answer  was  brief,  almost  curt. 

"How's  Veronica?"  asked  Mark. 

Bessington  replied  absently. 

Both  men  were  silent  for  a  space,  both  thinking  of 
the  same  woman,  both  wondering  a  little  at  the  other's 
devotion  to  her,  and  both  glad  of  it. 

"Which  are  you  going  to  see  first?"  asked  Bessing- 
ton at  last. 

"Stella.    I  shall  go  down  by  the  two  o'clock  train." 

"I  am  not  sure  Madre  will  be  pleased." 

"I'm  sorry,  but  I'll  run  no  risks.  At  present  I,  at 
least,  am  bound  by  no  promise." 

"No,  but  when  you  see  her  you  will  find  yourself 
bound  by  her  wishes,  like  the  rest  of  us." 

"That's  why  I  go  to  Camberley  first.  All  being  well, 
may  I  come  up  to  you  to-morrow?" 

"Will  you  have  attacked  matters  so  quickly?" 

Mark's  lips  straightened. 


298  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Would  you  put  up  with  a  day's  delay  in  my  place?" 

"I  suppose  not.  But  I  must  warn  her  you  are  com- 
ing, Mark." 

"As  you  like." 

He  took  his  hat  to  go,  hesitated  a  minute,  as  if  he 
had  still  something  to  say,  but  went  without  saying  it. 
It  would  after  all  be  slightly  invidious  to  thank 
Madre's  own  son-in-law  for  believing  in  her! 


Bessington  went  back  to  Hampstead  directly  after 
lunch.  He  had  an  uncomfortable  conviction  that  loy- 
alty to  Madre  demanded  his  instant  avowal  of  Mark's 
return  and  his  purpose.  He  had  not  seen  her  that 
morning.  Although  she  declared  she  had  quite  re- 
covered from  yesterday's  really  alarming  attack,  she 
had  yielded  to  Veronica's  entreaty  that  she  should  at 
least  remain  in  bed  to  breakfast.  In  her  heart  of 
hearts  she  was  glad  and  thankful  to  be  here  with  her 
loved  ones,  glad  that  the  decision  had  been  taken  so 
authoritatively  out  of  her  hands;  glad  to  feel  how 
utterly  she  was  in  Dominic's  power  when  it  was  his 
will  to  exert  it.  It  was  so  long  since  any  one  had  had 
either  the  right  or  the  assurance  to  dictate  to  her.  It 
would  have  fretted  her  terribly  from  any  one  else,  but 
from  Dominic  it  was  something  of  a  joy.  Life  did 
not  seem  so  difficult. 

The  depression  of  the  past  week  lifted  a  little,  and 
when  Dominic  saw  her  she  was  her  usual  cheerful  self, 
but  very  apologetic  over  her  collapse  of  yesterday. 

"It  was  such  a  stupid  thing  to  do — and  I  must  have 
interfered  shamefully  with  your  work." 

Dominic  agreed  gravely  that  it  was  very  stupid,  but 
added  that  his  work  had  survived. 

"It  is  really  all  the  fault  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  299 

He  shouldn't  have  put  so  many  steps  to  his  cathe- 
dral." 

"I  don't  regret  my  time  in  Lutton  Square  at  all," 
she  said  presently;  "it  was  peaceful,  and  Janet  Mears 
is  worth  knowing.  However,  I  don't  think  I  ever  felt 
a  'real  fit'  or  part  of  it  all.  It  was  very  unreal,  like 
being  half  awake.  I'm  afraid  the  Seelers  were  very 
disappointed  with  me.  I  have  never  come  in  close 
contact  with  that  sort  of  good  orthodox  people  before, 
and  I've  learnt  a  lot,  but  not  quite  what  they  wanted 
me  to  learn.  I  really  wanted  to  find  out  if  that  sort 
of  thing  meant  anything  to  me.  But  it  doesn't!  It 
was  all  just  an  interlude." 

"Life's  made  up  of  interludes,"  he  told  her  cheer- 
fully, "and  it's  only  dull  when  they  are  too  prolonged." 

"Yes,  that's  just  my  idea,  and  then  people  call  one 
restless." 

She  looked  anything  but  restless  just  then,  but 
Dominic's  conscience  was,  anH  it  pressed  him  to  con- 
fession. 

"Guess  whom  I've  seen  to-day?" 

"I  don't  like  guessing.    Tell  me." 

"Well,  then— Mark." 

She  sat  bolt  upright. 

"Mark!  Is  he  never  going  to  give  us  warning  of 
his  leave,  like  a  rational  being?  What  is  he  home 
for?" 

"Pleasure,  I  suppose.  You  are  not  to  get  excited, 
Madre,  or  I  won't  go  on." 

"I  am  not  excited;  I  am  interested.  When  is  he 
coming  to  see  me  ?" 

"To-morrow  if  you  are  well  enough." 

"I'm  not  ill,  Dominic.  It  was  only  the  steps  and  the 
heat." 

"Yes,  of  course;  we  know  that." 

"Where's  Mark  to-day?" 

"Gone  down  to  the  Prestons'," 


300  FELICITY  CROFTON 

She  caught  a  curious  note  in  his  voice,  and  her  mind 
sprang  to  wakeful  alertness. 

"Dominic,  what  is  it?  You  are  keeping  something 
from  me.  Why  is  he  gone  to  them?" 

"Where  should  he  go,  if  not  to  his  own  sister  and 
friend?" 

"I  wish  he  had  come  to  me  first.  I  ought  to  see  him 

before — before "  Her  voice  faltered  slightly — - 

"before  he  hears — anything." 

Her  eyes  questioned  him  sharply,  but  he  kept  his  on 
the  floor. 

"He  hasn't  heard  things  already,  Dominic?" 

"Yes,  he  heard  something  in  India." 

She  leant  back  with  a  look  of  pain  in  her  eyes. 

"So  far  away  as  that?" 

"From  Miss  Chancely,  just  out.  He  didn't  like 
what  he  heard,  so  he  came  over  to  set  it  right — that's 
all!" 

He  smiled  at  her  reassuringly.  After  all  she  had 
better  know.  It  was  too  late  now  to  do  anything. 

"All!    You  talk  as  if  India  were  next  door." 

"I  told  him  you  might  like  to  see  him  to-morrow." 

She  did  not  speak  for  a  while.  She  lay  still,  with 
shining  eyes,  then  suddenly  her  face  changed. 

"He  has  gone  to  them  at  Camberley,  you  say  ?" 

"Yes." 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  he  saw  that  it 
was  shaking. 

"Dominic,  he  must  be  stopped.  I  won't  have  trou- 
ble made  between  Adam  and  Stella  now.  I  couldn't 
bear  it.  You  must  stop  it!" 

Her  face  was  strained  and  anxious.  He  saw  it  was 
no  passing  fancy  with  her,  and  also  that  she  must  be 
kept  quiet;  but  it  went  sorely  against  the  grain. 

"We've  been  through  it,  Dominic,  before.  You 
said  you  understood.  Don't  fail  me  after  all !" 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  he  sighed. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  301 

"Wire  to  him.  Tell  him  I  insist  on  his  waiting  to 
see  me.  Oh,  suppose  it  is  too  late!" 

He  had  to  reassure  her,  her  agitation  was  so  great. 

"He  did  not  go  down  till  the  two  o'clock  train. 
Most  likely  a  wire  would  be  in  time." 

"Send  it  quickly,  Dominic.  It's  why  you  told  me, 
isn't  it?" 

"I  don't  know  why  I  was  fool  enough  to  tell  you !" 
he  grumbled. 

"Because  you  understand — and  I  trust  you.  Be 
quick." 

He  had  to  write  a  wire  then  and  there,  and  des- 
patch it.  After  that  was  done,  she  was  content  to  lie 
quiet.  It  was  obvious  to  him  that  she  could  at  present 
stand  no  extra  strain  of  any  kind.  He  was  glad  when 
the  doctor  paid  her  an  afternoon  visit.  He  only  re- 
peated what  Bessington  had  heard  before.  "She 
mustn't  be  allowed  to  exert  herself  in  any  way.  Get 
her  into  a  quiet  country  place  as  soon  as  you  can,  so  she 
can  lie  out  in  a  garden  and  do  nothing  but  vegetate." 

"For  how  long?"  he  questioned. 

The  doctor  looked  at  him  quizzically. 

"How  can  I  tell?" 

"Will  she  get  really  well  like  that?" 

"There  is  such  a  thing  as  compensation.  But  when 
an  engine  has  got  a  flaw  in  it,  no  amount  of  compen- 
sation will  make  it  safe  to  work  it  at  full  pressure." 

"It's  stagnation  for  her." 

"So  you  said  before." 

Having  seen  the  doctor  off,  he  went  back  slowly  to 
the  hall,  and  there  he  found  little  Mrs.  Mears,  who  had 
brought  up  some  of  Madre's  "things"  as  an  excuse 
for  coming  to  see  how  she  had  stood  the  journey. 

She  begged  for  a  word  with  him,  and  he  took  her 
into  his  own  room. 

"Mr.  Bessington,  sir — there's  something  I  want  to 
gay  to  you;  I  came  up  hoping  I  should  see  you,  If  I 


302  FELICITY  CROFTON 

did,  I  knew  I  had  to  say  it,  and  here  you  are.  It's 
just  this.  Don't  let  the  doctors  stop  Mrs.  Crofton 
going  about  and  living  naturally.  The  worst  thing  that 
could  happen  to  her  would  be  being  made  to  give  up 
and  let  other  folks  think  she  is  a  permanent  invalid. 
No  one  is,  really,  of  course.  They  only  think  it," 
she  added  hurriedly. 

He  looked  down  at  her  rather  white,  anxious  little 
face;  anxious  despite  her  faith,  and  he  said  rather 
grimly : 

"I  have  just  been  told  to  do  precisely  what  you  say 
I  am  not  to  do,  Mrs.  Mears.  What  am  I  to  believe?" 

"I  feel  it  here,"  she  thumped  her  breast,  "that  she 
will  get  well  if  she's  only  'let.'  If  some  one  that  under- 
stands will  stand  by  her.  If  she  is  tired  let  her  rest. 
The  right  sort  of  rest  means  healing.  But  I  know 
what  I  am  saying  if  only  I  could  convince  you,  sir." 
Her  appealing  eyes  were  fixed  on  him. 

"Why  me?"  he  said,  half  to  himself. 

"That  I  can't  tell  you,  but  somehow  I  know  it  will 
rest  with  you." 

He  interposed. 

"You  would  say  let  her  travel,  or  do  what  ever  she 
wishes  ?" 

He  was  not  scoffing  at  her,  nor  was  he  taking  grip 
of  her  faith,  though  her  idea  was  nearer  his  mind 
than  the  doctor's. 

"Let  her  follow  the  wish  that  is  in  her  most  deeply. 
It's  not  there  for  nothing." 

"I  can  only  say  that  if  it  rested  with  me  I  would 
rather  have  her  her  old  self  for  a  few  years  than  an 
invalid  for  a  long  life." 

"It  does  rest  with  you.  I  saw  that  yesterday.  But 
you  mustn't  limit  the  time  like  that,  even  in  your 
thoughts.  It's  these  limits  we  set  to  God's  power  that 
do  the  mischief." 

Bessington  thought  of  the  bare,  office-like  house 


FELICITY  CROFTON  303 

where  she  lived,  of  her  hard  and  rather  sordid  life,  of 
the  lack  of  beauty  and  freedom  in  it.  It  seemed  to 
him  little  short  of  a  miracle  that  she  should  keep  this 
eternal  spring  of  hope  and  faith  alive  in  her  heart  so 
that  she  in  truth  set  no  bounds  to  the  Power  she  wor- 
shipped. What  if  behind  her  crude,  illogical  creed 
there  did  lurk  some  truth?  What  if  the  limits  were 
indeed  of  our  own  setting?  He  thought  of  these 
things  when  she  had  gone,  while  he  sat  and  talked 
with  Madre  and  Veronica.  They  thought  him  a  little 
absentminded  and  silent.  Madre  at  all  events  set  no 
limits  to  her  service  for  others,  or  in  her  belief  in  the 
rights  of  others  to  happiness.  She  would  take  no  gain 
to  herself  at  another's  cost,  and  the  sum  total  of  result 
was  that  she  called  forth  from  others  corresponding 
unselfishness,  singleness  of  heart  and  devotion. 

Not  from  all!  There  was  Stella,  of  course;  the  ex- 
ception ! 

He  wondered  if  his  wire  was  in  time.  He  still 
could  not  but  wish  it  were  too  late,  and  then  felt 
ashamed  of  himself.  Madre's  wishes  were  after  all 
of  more  importance  than  Stella's  discomforture.  Still, 
he  knew  when  he  had  added  a  clause  to  the  wire  fhat 
Stella  should  come  with  Mark,  that  he  had  a  reason 
at  the  back  of  his  mind.  Madre  might  have  her  way 
as  to  Adam,  but  he  could  not  for  the  life  of  him  see 
why  Stella  should  not  be  brought  to  book  and  at  least 
made  to  face  the  generosity  that  was  spent  on  her. 
In  all  else  Madre  must  have  her  way  and  he  must  sup- 
port her.  He  did  not  seek  to  find  out  why  it  was,  but 
he  knew  that  Mrs.  Mears  was  right,  and  that  with 
regard  to  Madre's  future  the  casting  vote  would  lie 
\vith  him;  and  he  was  glad  of  it. 


304  FELICITY  CROFTON 


CHAPTER  XIII 
"Mark  Intervenes" 


ADAM  was  away  on  a  staff  ride  and  Stella  was  left  in 
solitude  with  the  consolation  that  she  could  at  least 
please  herself  by  spending  more  idle  days  than  would 
meet  with  Adam's  general  approval.  She  lived  in  the 
garden,  motored  each  evening,  and  let  her  social  duties 
take  care  of  themselves.  It  was  pleasant,  but,  of 
course,  not  so  pleasant  as  having  Adam  with  her.  She 
most  genuinely  missed  him,  and  the  thought  that  his 
absence  was  only  for  a  fortnight  at  most  did  not  recon- 
cile her  to  General  Meader's  inconsiderateness  in  going 
staff  riding  in  Wales  instead  of  nearer  home. 

The  garden  still  looked  very  beautiful  in  spite  of  the 
dearth  of  the  first  best  summer  flowers.  As  she  strolled 
down  a  path  Stella  almost  decided  she  would  ask  her 
mother  up  for  a  few  days,  as  Adam  had  suggested. 
She  had  put  the  proposal  aside  for  the  time,  thinking 
that  she  would  prefer  solitude,  but  really  her  mother 
would  make  little  difference.  She  would  not  want  to 
get  up  early,  and  she  would  be  pleased  to  motor  when, 
and  where,  Stella  liked,  and  she  would  enjoy  seeing 
the  baby.  It  would  be  kind.  Adam  had  hinted  as 
much.  Stella  felt  so  content  with  the  world  (always 
excepting  General  Meader)  that  she  wanted  to  do 
some  one  a  kindness.  It  was  still  a  subtle  pleasure  to 
her  to  display  her  good  possessions  to  her  mother,  to 
make  ostentatious  use  of  the  best  things,  and  to  accept 
all  her  little  luxuries  and  joys  with  an  assumed  indif*- 


FELICITY  CROFTON  1305 

ference  that  demonstrated  habitual  use.  In  point  of 
fact  her  consciousness  was  still  keenly  alive  to  her  own 
material  gains.  These  were  summed  up  to  her  in 
three  parts,  good  clothes,  good  food  and  good  sur- 
roundings. She  had  them  all  and  coupled  to  them  she 
had  her  husband  and  child.  Certainly  she  could  af- 
ford to  be  kind  to  her  mother. 

She  began  retracing  her  steps  to  the  house  to  fulfil 
this  laudable  intention  before  post  time,  when  she  saw 
a  tall  thin  man  coming  up  the  entrance  drive,  and  she 
stopped.  It  was  early  for  callers,  and  she  was  not. 
sure  she  wanted  any.  The  visitor  saw  her,  hesitated 
and  then,  turning  from  the  front  door,  came  straight 
across  the  garden  towards  her. 

The  heat  of  the  day  seemed  suddenly  to  have  in- 
creased, so  that  a  faint  mist  swam  before  her  eyes.  Of 
course  it  couldn't  be  Mark.  She  was  quite  thankful, 
it  couldn't  be  Mark. 

She  stood  still  where  she  was,  watching  his  approach. 

It  was  Mark! 

ii 

"It's  so  like  you  to  choose  a  time  when  Adam  isn't 
at  home  to  protect  me,"  she  moaned. 

"I  didn't  know  he  was  away.  How  could  I?  Be 
sensible,  Stella!" 

"I  wonder  you  expect  me  to  be  sensible  at  all,  con- 
sidering all  the  horrible  things  you  think  of  me!"  she 
retorted,  picking  up  a  faint  show  of  spirit. 

Mark  sighed.  They  had  talked  for  nearly  an  hour 
with  no  results.  His  first  imperious  demand,  that 
would  have  reduced  Stella  Forrester  to  tears  and  com- 
pliance, was  met  by  fierce  and  hot  refusals  from  Stella 
Preston.  The  whole  thing,  she  insisted,  had  nothing 
to  do  with  Mark,  and  never  had  had.  She  reiterated 
this  now. 

"It's  a  question  of  your  telling  Adam  or  my  telling 


306  FELICITY  CROFTON 

him,  that's  all,"  he  said  at  last  driven  from  all  hopes 
of  moving  her  moral  consciousness. 

"You  are  abominably  cruel!  Here  I  am  perfectly 
happy,  with  everything  a  woman  can  want,  and  you 
want  to  take  it  all  from  me!" 

"You  exaggerate  as  hopelessly  as  ever." 

"I  don't.  I  know  Adam  a  great  deal  better  than 
you  do !  Oh,  Mark !"  She  suddenly  changed  her  tone, 
and  leaning  forward  put  her  hand  on  his.  "Mark, 
don't  be  cruel.  What  does  it  all  matter  now  ?  Indeed, 
you  will  spoil  our  lives,  Adam's  and  mine.  He  would 
never  forgive  me.  He  didn't  treat  Madre  well,  you 
see!" 

"I  am  not  thinking  of  Adam,"  he  persisted. 

"But  no  one  seriously  thinks  it  of  her,  or  thinks 
the  worse  of  her.  Besides,  she's  ill — Jane  says  she 
can  never  go  about  as  she  used  to  do,  so  she  could  not 
be  seeing  people,  and  it  won't  make  much  difference. 
Do  let  things  alone !" 

The  case  was  beyond  anger  even,  and  he  gazed  at 
her  with  hopeless  despair.  There  seemed  no  rudiment 
of  faith  or  honour  in  her.  She  was  not  in  the  least 
ashamed  of  her  appeal.  She  quite  evidently  considered 
it  as  mere  common  sense.  He  made  one  last  try. 

"You  are  building  up  the  whole  of  your  future  on 
a  lie,  Stella;  if  you  can't  see  the  shame  of  it,  can't 
you  see  the  danger?" 

"You  are  the  only  danger." 

That  woke  his  anger  again. 

"Because  another  woman  is  more  generous  to  you 
than  any  living  man  or  woman  has  a  right  to  expect !" 

"Yes,  she  is  generous,  I  see  that.  She  wouldn't 
want  you  to  make  a  fuss  about  it. 

"You  think  I  have  come  all  the  way  from  India  to 
set  this  right,  and  am  going  back  without  doing  it, 
because  Madre  is  generous  and  you  are  without  a  con- 
science?" 


"  SHE   STOOD   STILL,   WATCHING   HIS   APPROACH  " 


FELICITY  CROFTON  307 

"You  are  unkind.  And  you  couldn't  have  come  all 
the  way  just  for  that!" 

"I  did.    Are  you  going  to  tell  Adam,  or  am  I  ?" 

They  were  back  at  the  starting  point.  Do  what  he 
would  he  could  not  chain  her  to  the  main  issue. 

"You  care  more  for  a  finger  ache  of  your  precious 
Mrs.  Crofton  than  for  your  own  sister's  happiness!" 
she  cried  bitterly. 

"Perhaps  I  do." 

"Mark,  don't  be  such  a  brute." 

"Then  it's  I?"    He  got  up  with  a  set  face. 

That  forced  her  hand. 

All  this  time,  at  the  back  of  her  mind,  she  had  been 
desperately  seeking  a  way  out.  Holding  him  off  to 
gain  time,  thinking  little  of  what  she  was  actually  say- 
ing, concocting  in  her  mind  rather  the  answer  she 
would  have  ready  for  Adam  if  her  brother  stuck  to  his 
threat,  now  she  seized  suddenly  on  a  weapon  of  de- 
fence, and  questioned  neither  its  legitimacy  nor  its 
power. 

"You  will  not  tell  him,  Mark.  I  forbid  it !"  She 
rose,  too,  gasping  a  little.  For  the  first  time  she 
showed  to  him  that  she  was  frightened,  not  of  him, 
but  of  something  or  some  one  else. 

"If  you  do," — her  voice,  though  it  shook,  held  such 
despairing  resolution  that  he  was  compelled  to  belief — 
"if  you  do  tell  Adam,  then  I  shall  take  to  morphine 
again  and — other  things !  Adam  would  never  forgive 
me,  and  there  would  be  nothing  left  for  me  to  do.  But 
it  would  be  your  doing,  your  fault,  and  if  it's  such  an 
awful  thing  as  you  all  seem  to  think,  the  blame  will 
lie  at  your  door!" 

She  had  found  her  weapon  now  and  she  knew  it ! 

"Stella,  you  are  talking  wicked  nonsense.  You 
have  your  child  to  think  of." 

She  laughed. 

"I  shouldn't  have !    Adam  would  see  to  that !    Re- 


3o8  FELICITY  CROFTON 

member  he  sent  Madre  away — his  dear  Madre!  Be- 
sides, he  really  cares  more  for  his  son  than  he  does  for 
me.  Tell  him,  if  you  wish  to — I  have  no  more  to  say." 

She  moved  towards  the  house:  she  had  the  instinct 
to  know  that  for  the  time  at  least  the  victory  was  in 
her  hands. 

He  followed  her  slowly,  being  for  the  moment  ut- 
terly at  a  loss.  He  had  no  fear  himself  concerning 
Adam,  but  he  saw  the  impossibility  of  convincing  her. 
For  her  terror  was  very  real.  He  made  no  mistake 
about  that.  He  had  seen  genuine  fear  before,  in  the 
eyes  of  natives,  and  the  recognition  of  it,  here  in  this 
quiet  garden,  momentarily  stunned  him.  Something 
must  have  happened,  of  course,  to  give  rise  to  so  pre- 
posterous a  fear. 

He  thought  of  these  things  incoherently,  as  he  fol- 
lowed her,  uncertain  of  what  to  do  next,  or  what  she 
expected  of  him. 

At  the  door  of  the  house  she  paused  to  take  a  tele- 
gram from  a  boy.  Mark  waited,  watching  her.  She 
looked  at  the  address,  turned  it  over,  and  looked  back 
at  him. 

"For  you,"  she  said,  in  an  odd,  constrained  voice. 
"Who  knew  you  were  here?" 

"No  one  but  Bessington." 

He  tore  open  the  envelope.    It  was  from  Bessington. 

"Madre  forbids  any  move  until  you  have  seen  her. 
Come  to-morrow  and  bring  Mrs.  Preston.  Bessing- 
ton." 

"Well?" 

Stella's  question  broke  in  on  his  thoughts.  He 
answered  by  putting  the  wire  into  her  hands. 

"I  knew  Madre  wouldn't  approve!"  she  said  tri- 
umphantly. "If  only  you  would  listen  to  her  instead 
of  being  so  sure  you  were  in  the  right !" 

"I  am  right,"  he  said  firmly,  "but  I'll  see  her  first, 
as  she  wishes  it,  We  will  go  early," 


FELICITY  CROFTON  309 

"I  can't  go.     I  have  an  engagement." 

He  met  her  eyes  steadily.     This  time  she  knew  he 

was  master,  and  she  turned  away. 

"Very  well,  if  you  are  going  to  be  horrid  again." 
They  went  inside.     Stella  rang  for  tea,  and  asked 

Mark  if  he  would  like  to  see  his  nephew. 


in 

There  had  been  an  accident  amongst  the  Welsh 
mountains,  and  the  general  commanding  the  Staff 
ride  had  been  badly  hurt.  Preston  was  chosen  to  go 
to  Camberley  with  certain  information,  and  two  days' 
leave.  He  slept  in  town,  but  wired  early  next  morn- 
ing to  Stella  to  expect  him.  The  unopened  envelope  of 
his  wire  was  the  first  thing  that  met  his  eye  when  he 
walked  into  his  own  house  two  days  later,  wondering 
where  on  earth  Stella  was,  and  why  she  was  not  look- 
ing out  for  him. 

He  learnt  from  her  maid  that  Mrs.  Preston's  brother 
had  arrived  three  days  ago,  and  that  they  had  both 
motored  up  to  town  that  morning,  and  had  started 
about  an  hour  before  he  arrived.  His  telegram  had 
come  ten  minutes  after  they  had  gone. 

He  felt  both  puzzled  and  pleased  at  Mark's  arrival, 
and  a  little  vexed  at  missing  them,  but  turned  his  steps 
philosophically  to  the  nursery. 

The  maid  still  lingered  so  insistently,  that  he  noticed 
it,  and  turned  to  her  with  a  short  "Well  ?" 

"I  think  they  went  to  see  a  lady  who  is  ill,  sir.  Mrs. 
Preston  seemed  much  upset." 

He  paused  to  consider  this  matter.  Was  it  Mrs. 
Forrester.  He  hated  questioning  the  servants,  but 
perhaps  he  ought  to  know. 

"Do  you  know  who  it  was  ?" 

"A  Mrs.  Crofton,  I  think,  sir." 


3io  FELICITY  CROFTON 

She  spoke  hesitatingly,  hoping  she  would  not  be 
questioned  as  to  how  she  knew.  The  fact  that  her  bed- 
room window  had  been  open  when  Stella  and  Mark 
were  standing  beneath  it  talking  that  morning,  ac- 
counted for  her  knowledge.  The  effect  of  the  name 
she  gave  her  master  caused  her  intense  satisfaction. 
He  stood  still,  frowning,  clearly  troubled,  even  agi- 
tated. 

"Are  you  sure?"  he  demanded. 

"I — I  think  that  was  the  name.  I  will  ask  nurse  if 
you  like,  sir.  She  might  know." 

"No,  it  doesn't  matter." 

He  made  as  if  to  go  upstairs.  After  all  it  was  not. 
his  business,  though  it  was  natural,  if  Madre  were  ill, 
that  Mark  should  wish  to  see  her.  Stella  probably 
saw  no  reason  for  not  going.  For  after  all  he  had 
never  spoken  to  her  of  the  quarrel,  and  had  forgotten 
to  wonder  at  her  own  silence  concerning  it. 

Perhaps  Madre  was  seriously  ill! 

He  stopped  again.  Indecision  was  hateful  to  him, 
and  he  felt  irritated.  He  wandered  out  and  down  into 
the  village,  to  the  public  telephone,  and  rang  up  Ve- 
ronica. It  went  against  the  grain  to  communicate  with 
the  Bessingtons,  but  it  was  the  quickest  way  to  satisfy 
himself  there  was  nothing  to  worry  about.  It  was 
some  time  before  he  got  through.  When  he  did,  it  was 
Veronica's  voice  that  answered  him. 

Yes,  Madre  was  not  well.  She  was  with  them ;  not 
in  bed,  however.  They  were  expecting  Mark  up  that 
day,  and  Stella.  Madre  much  wished  to  see  him. 
Then  a  little  pause: 

"Adam,  I  wish  you  would  come  too." 

She  could  not  explain  why,  over  the  telephone.  She 
could  not,  indeed,  have  explained  her  impulse  to  ask 
him  at  all,  but  she  knew  she  wanted  him  there,  and 
that  Madre  would  be  pleased. 

They  were  rung  off  before  he  had  answered  one  way 


FELICITY  CROFTON  1311 

or  another.  He  went  back  to  the  house  still  uncertain. 
Stella  had  taken  the  big  car;  his  little  runabout  was, 
however,  in  the  garage.  It  might  not  be  in  starting 
trim.  He  found  himself  in  the  garage  looking  at  it. 
It  seemed  quite  in  order.  Ten  minutes  later  he  was 
driving  towards  London. 


IV 

"What  are  you  smiling  at,  Madre?" 

"I  can't  help  it  when  I  think  of  Mark  coming  all 
that  way!  How  does  he  look ?" 

"Very  well  and  brown.  What  are  you  going  to  say 
to  him?" 

"Thank  him  very  much,  and  explain  I  would  rather 
he  left  things  alone." 

"You  won't  find  it  easy  to  convince  him." 

"You'll  back  me  up,  Dominic?"  Her  voice  was  per- 
suasive. 

"Why  do  you  say  that?    Could  I  hinder  you?" 

She  looked  away. 

"Yes.  I  couldn't  stand  out  against  you.  I  suppose 
I  have  had  rather  a  bad  time  lately,  and  somehow  I 
feel  as  if  I  couldn't  stand  alone  any  more.  It's  silly 
but  there  it  is.  I  should  feel  dreadfully  worried  if  it 
weren't  you,  but  you  understand  me,  so  I  am  safe." 

"Well,  don't  worry.  I  am  not  going  to  stand  be- 
tween you  and  anything  on  which  you  have  set  your 
beart." 

She  sighed  with  relief. 

They  were  in  the  drawing  room.  She  steadily  re- 
fused to  be  treated  as  an  invalid,  and  Veronica  gave 
up  the  attempt,  once  Dominic  had  given  his  approval 
to  Madre's  mood.  She  had  said  little  when  her  hus- 
band told  her  that  Mark  and  possibly  Stella  were  com- 
ing up  to  see  Madre  that  day,  and  had  only  asked  if 


312  FELICITY  CROFTO'N 

she  were  to  entertain  Stella.  Dominic  said  rather  drily 
that  he  would  relieve  her  of  that  task. 

Then  she  rather  surprised  him. 

"I  suppose  it  was  Stella  all  along?" 

"How  do  you  know?"  he  asked. 

"You  were  sure  it  wasn't  Madre;  so  it  must  have 
been  Stella.  I'm  not  such  a  baby  as  you  and  Madre 
think,  Dominic." 

"I  think  you  are  that  extreme  rarity,  a  woman  who 
knows  how  to  keep  her  own  counsel,"  he  replied. 

"It's  no  use  interfering  over  things  that  other  people 
can  manage  better  than  one  can  oneself." 

"Is  that  your  creed  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  grave  amusement,  and  a 
sort  of  tenderness  that  he  had  noticed  once  or  twice 
and  hardly  understood. 

"Did  you  think  I  hadn't  any?  I  must  go  and  see 
that  Madre  has  her  milk." 

She  went  off,  and  a  minute  later  he  heard  her  voice 
singing  as  she  went  upstairs  to  the  nursery. 

Then  he  had  gone  into  Madre,  and  with  the  door 
open,  she  heard  too  and  looked  at  him  with  rare 
pleasure. 

"Isn't  it  good  to  hear  her,  Dominic?  Almost  the 
biggest  thing  you  have  done  for  me,  is  keeping  her  so 
young." 

Then  they  had  spoken  of  Mark  and  the  expected 
visit. 


When  the  Preston's  motor  stopped  at  the  door,  Bes- 
sington  went  out  to  meet  it.  Mark  looked  at  him  in- 
quiringly, but  his  manner  was  as  imperturbable  as 
ever.  Stella  reluctantly  prepared  to  get  out.  She 
looked  sullen  and  was  silent.  She  hated  coming,  hated 
Mark's  silence,  his  quite  obvious  contempt  for  her,  and 


FELICITY  CROFTON  313 

she  hated  above  all,  the  fact  that  Bessington  knew! 
Mark  had  told  her  that  much  and  she  had  fiercely  up- 
braided him  for  giving  her  away.  Although  she  still 
held  to  her  point  with  Mark,  that  they  were  all  making 
a  great  fuss  over  nothing,  she  knew  that  she  would 
find  it  difficult  to  hold  that  opinion  in  Dominic  Bes- 
sington's  presence,  and  she  resented  that. 

She  was  not  allowed  to  get  out.  Bessington  stopped 
her. 

"If  Mrs.  Preston  is  not  too  tired  I  thought  I  would 
take  her  for  a  turn  round  the  Heath  in  my  own  car," 
he  said,  looking  at  Mark  rather  than  at  her.  "Madre's 
really  not  up  to  seeing  many  people,  though  she  would 
resent  being  told  so.  Would  you  mind,  Mrs.  Preston  ?" 

He  turned  to  her  with  a  certain  deference;  but  she 
could  no  more  have  said  no  to  him,  than  she  could 
have  told  her  own  chauffeur  at  that  moment  to  take 
her  straight  home. 

"I'll  just  take  Mark  in,  and  be  back  in  a  minute." 

She  was  left  for  that  minute  waiting  in  her  car, 
wondering  why  she  could  not  give  the  order  to  return, 
why  she  couldn't  drive  s.way  instantly  out  of  the  lives 
of  these  disturbing  people  and  all  concerning  them. 

Bessington  was  quite  charming  and  polite  when  he 
came  out,  and  packed  her  comfortably  into  his  own 
motor. 

"The  Heath  is  looking  better  than  one  would  think," 
he  remarked.  "I  hope  you  don't  mind.  I  know  Mrs. 
Crofton  will  like  a  long  talk  with  Mark,  and  would 
feel  she  must  hurry  if  she  thought  you  were  waiting." 

She  was  utterly  bewildered.  What  did  he  know, 
after  all,  and  what  did  he  not  know?  Was  he  only 
playing  with  her?  One  thing  was  certain,  that  he 
did  not  care  a  rap,  despite  his  politeness,  whether  she 
minded  coming  with  him  or  not.  He  meant  her  to 
come,  and  she  had  done  so! 

They  soon  turned  from  the  Heath  proper,  to  roads 


314  FELICITY  CROFTON 

little  frequented,  and  then  Bessington  dropped  from 
the  mere  polite  nothings  he  had  let  fall  from  time  to 
time  into  the  matter  in  hand. 

"I  dare  say  that  Mark  told  you  Mrs.  Crofton  was 
not  well,"  he  remarked. 

Stella  owned  he  had  done  so,  and  hoped  it  was 
nothing  serious. 

He  told  her  in  very  plain  and  direct  words,  what 
was  wrong,  and  of  the  doctor's  warning  and  estimate 
of  Madre's  future,  and  her  own  brave  fight  against 
what  seemed  inevitable. 

"She  won't  like  doing  nothing,"  Stella  said,  with  a 
little  shiver.  Her  imagination  could  at  least  grip  es- 
sential facts. 

"No,  she  will  not.  She  will  want  all  the  help  her 
friends  can  give  her.  Mrs.  Preston,  I  have  something 
I  ought  to  tell  you.  Sometime  ago  I  learnt  the  truth 
about  Madre  and  you.  It  was  an  interesting,  curious 
affair,  but  I  learnt  it  without  her  permission,  so  of 
course  I  have  kept  it  to  myself." 

She  leant  back  in  her  seat,  shaking  a  little  and  try- 
ing not  to  be  frightened.  She  saw  at  once  what  it 
meant,  or  might  mean.  Madre  might  get  her  way  with 
Mark,  but  there  would  be  still  some  one  else  to  reckon 
with,  and  that,  Madre's  son-in-law !  Would  she  never 
be  free?  She  never  questioned  his  statement.  Even 
her  imagination  refused  to  conjure  up  details  which 
should  give  the  lie  to  his  plain  words. 

"Of  course  she  took  the  only  possible  course  she 
could  take  at  the  time,"  he  went  on,  without  glancing 
at  her.  "Quite  the  right  course.  She  would  have  taken 
it  even  if  she  had  known  she  would  have  to  pay  as  she 
has." 

"The  Merediths  and  the  rest  of  them  were  brutes !" 
burst  forth  Stella. 

"Quite  so.  Did  you  tell  them?"  He  turned  his 
head  sharply  to  catch  her  off  her  guard. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  315 

"No,  I  didn't." 

"Whom  did  you  tell?"  he  insisted  quietly. 

"I  can't  see  what  it  has  to  do  with  you.  It's  all 
between  Madre,  Mark  and  myself." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that — if  you  and  Mark 
are  of  one  mind,  as  I  feel  sure  you  are.  Still,  it  does 
matter  to  me  a  good  deal.  I  am  her  son-in-law,  after 
all." 

It  was  her  turn  to  flash  a  look  at  him,  and  she  caught 
at  the  chance  of  hurting  him. 

"You  ought  to  have  married  her  yourself!" 

"We  were  discussing  to  whom  it  was  you  told  the 
story  of  Mrs.  Crofton  taking  drugs." 

She  began  to  get  really  frightened,  since  she  could 
not  make  him  angry. 

"I  never  told  any  one  that.  I  think  I  told  Jane 
Mitchen  that  Adam  thought  she  did,  because  Jane  kept 
bothering  as  to  why  Madre  did  not  come  to  see  me.  I 
had  to  say  some  thing!  I  told  her  it  was  stupid  of 
Adam — but  I  don't  remember  very  well.  It  was  the 
night  my  baby  was  born." 

His  face  softened  perceptibly.  They  were  on  a 
lonely  piece  of  road  now,  and  he  slackened  down  the 
car  to  a  mere  crawl. 

"Yes,  that  accounts  for  it.  I  had  fancied  Adam 
told." 

"You  used  to  be  a  fair  judge  of  character!"  She 
tossed  it  out  scornfully. 

"Yes,  again.  Anger  destroys  one's  judgment. 
And  Adam,  not  knowing  that  you  knew,  believed 
that  Madre  must  have  given  herself  away,  and 
that  made  him  even  surer.  Yes,  that's  quite  clear. 
Now  just  what  was  the  bargain  between  you  and 
her?" 

She  would  not  answer.  She  made  a  feeble  attempt 
to  tell  herself  he  had  neither  right  nor  power  to  ques- 
tion her, 


3i6  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"It  was  probably  quite  a  reasonable  bargain,"  he 
said  encouragingly. 

It  seemed  no  use  denying  him  when  he  was  so  sure 
she  would  answer  in  the  end ! 

"The  bargain,  as  you  call  it,  was  that  she  should  tell 
Adam  nothing  until  I  gave  her  leave." 

She  said  it  defiantly,  and  the  little  soft  spot  in  Bes- 
sington's  heart  hardened  again. 

"On  the  understanding  that  you  would  give  that,  as 
soon  as  you  were  really  well  ?" 

She  hated  the  blandness  of  his  voice,  as  she 
hated  the  force  of  his  personality.  She  would  far 
rather  have  faced  Mark's  hot  scorn  and  fierce  in- 
sistence. 

"It  must  have  been  very  trying  for  you,  knowing 
you  were  not  well  enough  to  meet  your  obligation,  and 
that  meanwhile  people  were  going  on  misunderstand- 
ing her,'r  he  remarked  sympathetically. 

"She  never  sent  or  reminded  me,"  said  Stella  sul- 
lenly. 

He  lifted  his  brows  as  he  bent  down  to  readjust 
something. 

"It's  not  a  very  easy  situation  for  you,  Mrs.  Preston. 
I  don't  wonder  you  feel  worried.  I  have  been  trying 
to  see  what  is  really  the  simplest  and  easiest  way  out 
for  you." 

"There's  no  need,"  she  exclaimed  sharply,  clinging 
to  her  last  refuge.  "Madre  doesn't  want  anything 
done.  You  wired  as  much  yourself." 

"No,  but  of  course  that's  too  hard  on  you.  You 
couldn't  accept  it.  You  must  remember  that  what  ties 
her  hand  is  not  knowing  whether  you  are  really  well 
or  ill.  Naturally  she  doesn't  want  Mark  to  give  things 
away  till  you  say  so.  It  would  look  as  if  she  hadn't 
kept  her  promise." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  You  are  playing 
with  me!"  she  broke  out  fiercely.  "I  tell  you  there's 


FELICITY  CROFTON  317 

no  need  to  do  anything.  Why  can't  you  all  let  Madre 
do  as  she  wants?" 

"At  the  cost  of  your  self-respect?" 

He  said  it  quite  gently,  but  with  a  curious  suavity 
that  chilled  her. 

"Of  course  if  Mrs.  Crofton  were  really  free  and 
still  chose  to  keep  her  own  counsel  neither  you  nor  I 
nor  any  one  would  have  the  slightest  right  to  say  no  to 
her.  You  would  have  to  accept  her  generosity  in  the 
spirit  in  which  it's  offered." 

Again  she  was  oppressed  by  a  sense  of  bewilder- 
ment, and  of  some  hidden  depths  within  her  that  an- 
swered to  his  call  and  would  not  be  silenced. 

"Otherwise  it  would  be  an  intolerable  position  for 
you,"  he  went  on  evenly.  "Adam  might  still  get  to 
know  by  a  hundred  chances,  and  you  would  have  noth- 
ing to  show  as  a  set  off.  It  would  look  as  if  it  were 
entirely  your  fault." 

She  made  a  grudging  concession  to  that  hidden  self 
that  would  not  be  suffocated. 

"You  think  she  won't  tell  him  even  if  I  give  her 
permission?" 

"I  can't  possibly  say." 

Bessington  spoke  indifferently.  He  was  not  going 
to  give  her  that  assurance.  Let  her  reap  a  grain  of 
credit  from  the  position  if  she  could,  or  she  would  be 
utterly  bankrupt. 

They  drove  on  more  quickly.  Stella  sat  quiet,  in- 
capable of  speech,  trying  to  get  abreast  of  this  man's 
meaning  and  to  stave  off  her  inevitable  surrender.  It 
was  inevitable,  she  knew.  Indeed  it  seemed  to  her  that 
he  had  after  all  only  revealed  to  her  her  own  purpose. 
Mark  had  fought  to  bend  her  to  his  ends,  but  Bessing- 
ton had  deluded  her  into  believing  his  ends  were  of 
her  own  choosing! 

Presently  they  had  turned  homewards  and  were 
climbing  a  steep  hill.  He  spoke  again. 


3i8  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"The  worst  of  people  like  Mrs.  Crofton  is,  that  they 
insist  on  living  on  mountain  tops,  and  some  of  us  find 
the  air  rather  rarefied.  Still,  there  are  compensations. 
How's  your  baby?" 

She  struggled  through  another  fog  of  mystification 
and  emerged  to  find  herself  talking  freely  of  her  son. 

They  turned  the  corner,  and  she  saw  that  they  were 
back  again,  and  that  though  her  own  car  had  gone 
into  the  garage,  there  was  a  little  Humber  car  at  the 
door. 

"It's  Adam's,"  she  gasped,  and  her  face  went  white. 
He  gave  a  swift  look. 

Yes,  it  was  fright !    He  slackened  down  speed. 

"That's  all  right,  if  rather  mystifying,"  he  said 
cheerfully.  "I  was  going  to  suggest  that  you  asked 
Adam  to  be  friends  with  Mrs.  Crofton  again." 

As  they  entered  the  hall  the  maid  told  them  that 
Mrs.  Bessington  was  in  the  garden  with  Mr.  Preston, 
and  would  they  join  them  there. 

Bessington,  instead  of  complying,  opened  the  door 
of  his  own  sitting  room. 

"Come  in,  Mrs.  Preston.  You  need  not  be  anxious. 
If  anything  were  wrong  they  would  have  been  on  the 
lookout  for  us." 

She  followed  him  mechanically. 

Bessington  knew  now  that  he  had  her  completely 
in  his  power.  He  could  find  it  in  his  heart  to  be  sorry 
for  her  even,  but  he  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of 
letting  her  off. 

He  put  pen  and  paper  before  her. 

"If  you  will  just  let  Madre  have  it  in  writing." 

"Have  what?" 

"Your  permission  to  act  as  she  likes." 

"But  not  now — when  Adam's  here !"  she  cried  with 
whitening  lips. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Preston,  what  difference  does  that 
make?  Suppose  she  does  see  that  it's  best  to  be  quite 


FELICITY  CROFTON  319 

frank  about  it  all?  What  better  opportunity  could 
there  be  than  when  we  are  all  here  to  explain  it  to 
him,  and  how  it  was  you  had  to  wait  so  long  till  you 
were  quite  fit?  Mark's  being  here  makes  it  all  the 
more  simple,  explicable.  It  would  be  simple  now — 
supposing  she  saw  it  like  that.  It  would  never  be  so 
simple  again,  remember." 

At  last  she  met  his  eyes.  They  were  kindly,  but 
there  was  no  wavering  in  them.  At  least  she  read  no 
scorn  there,  nor  contempt,  but  instead  a  great  pity. 
Yet  never  by  a  single  word  did  he  assert  his  right  to 
pity  or  blame.  He  just  took  it  for  granted  that  her 
wish  to  act  was  in  accordance  with  some  law  of  being 
that  governed  them  both,  and  she  could  not  gainsay  it. 

"What  am  I  to  write?"  she  asked  in  a  choking 
voice. 

"Just  what  ever  comes  first  to  your  mind." 

She  wrote  this : 

"Dear  Madre :  You  can  do  what  you  like  about  tell- 
ing Adam.  Stella." 

She  handed  it  to  him,  and  he  put  it  in  an  envelope 
without  looking  at  it,  and  sealed  it ;  then  he  handed  it 
back  to  her,  but  she  pushed  it  away. 

"No,  no,  don't  give  it  me !" 

He  saw  she  was  on  the  verge  of  tears,  which  was 
the  last  thing  he  wanted,  and  fetched  her  some  water. 
Under  his  firm  ministrations  she  made  a  most  unusual 
effort  to  control  herself. 

"We'll  go  into  the  garden  and  find  your  husband, 
and  then  I'll  take  your  note  to  Mrs.  Crofton.  Re- 
member I  don't  know  what  she'll  do,  but  until  we 
know  you  must  play  up  and  not  let  Adam  think  there's 
anything  amiss.  I  am  sure  you  are  good  at  that." 

He  said  it  quizzically,  but  she  had  the  grace  to 
blush. 


320  FELICITY  CROFTON 

They  went  down  and  out  into  the  little  garden,  where 
Adam  was  walking  up  and  down  with  Veronica. 

The  latter  looked  a  little  anxiously  at  her  husband. 
It  was  possible  he  would  be  anything  but  pleased  to  see 
Adam,  and  she  was  responsible  for  his  being  there,  but 
Bessington  gave  no  sign  he  was  otherwise  than  pleased. 
Adam  explained  his  presence — told  Stella  that  she 
looked  tired  and  that  Mark  had  had  no  right  to  drag 
her  up  to  town  this  weather. 

"Or  I  to  take  her  further  still,  I  expect  you  think," 
said  Bessington.  "It  was  nice  and  fresh  on  the  Heath 
though.  Was  it  too  much  for  you,  Mrs.  Preston?" 

Stella  said  No ;  she  was  not  tired. 

"I  think  it  was  worth  it  myself.  I'll  just  go  now 
and  rout  Mark  out." 

He  gave  Stella  a  little  reassuring  glance  as  he  went. 

If  it  were  not  for  Madre  he  could  almost  have 
found  the  situation  amusing. 


FELICITY  CROFTON  321 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"Show  me  the  man  who  will  shirk  no  re- 
sponsibility, who  will  judge  me  by  my  virtues 
as  well  as  by  my  faults,  who  will  ever  expect 
me  to  act  up  to  the  highest  that  is  within  me, 
and  I  will  make  of  him  a  friend  that  shall 
last  till  I  need  friendship  no  more." 


"MARK,  what  am  I  to  say  to  you?  How  does  one 
thank  a  man  for  travelling  six  thousand  miles  to  do 
one  a  service?"  said  Felicity. 

"I've  not  done  it  yet,"  he  returned  quickly.  "I 
should  have  done,  but  for  your  wire,  and  the  fact  that 
Adam  was  away." 

"The  gods  are  on  my  side!" 

"You  don't  imagine  I  am  going  to  do — nothing, 
after  all?" 

She  patted  the  chair  beside  her. 

"Come  and  sit  down,  Mark.  I  can't  talk  when  you 
are  wandering  about." 

"There's  nothing  to  talk  about — on  that  subject." 

"There  is.  I  don't  want  you  to  do  anything,  Mark, 
please." 

He  resisted  this  with  all  his  mental  strength,  in 
silence,  but  she  felt  the  force  of  his  opposition. 

"It's  quite  simple  if  you  think  of  it.  I  don't  mind 
owning  that  at  first  I  cared  a  great  deal.  Even  if  no 
one  else  had  known  I  should  still  have  cared  that  I 
couldn't  explain  things  to  Adam." 


322  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Madre,  it  won't  bear  thinking  about!" 

"I  assure  you  it  will,  if  you  are  patient.  Well,  I 
have  got  over  all  that.  People  are  really  quite  nice, 
and  the  only  thing  that  would  really  be  unbearable, 
would  be  to  feel  that  I  had  had  a  bad  time  for  nothing. 
It  would  seem  to  me  unendurable  and  cruel  if  no  one 
in  the  end  is  to  reap  any  advantage  from  it.  One 
doesn't  mind  being  a  little  unhappy  if  there  is  gain 
somewhere  to  some  one,  but  unproductive  pain  fright- 
ens me.  You  are  not  going  to  make  it  unproduc- 
tive?" 

"Who  gains  anything  but  Stella?" 

She  looked  down  a  little  apologetically. 

"I  fear  I  am  really  not  thinking  of  Stella,  but  of 
Adam.  I  do  want  him  to  be  happy." 

"His  happiness  can't  be  worth  much  if  it's  built  up 
on  a  lie!" 

"But  it's  worth  something!  And  what  it's  worth 
has  to  be  saved  for  him.  They  are  very  happy  together, 
you  know,  Mark." 

"Stella  doesn't  deserve  it !" 

"We  have  nothing  to  do  with  what  Stella  deserves 
or  not.  At  least  I  haven't;  but  I  have  got  something 
to  do  with  saving  Adam's  happiness.  He  isn't  the 
kind  of  man  who  would  ever  find  things  the  same  if  he 
were  told  this  now.  I  never  saw  that  at  the  time;  it 
was  stupid  of  me.  I  can't  endure  that  he  should  have 
his  outlook  spoilt  in  life,  because  I  was  stupid !  Mark, 
it's  a  dreadful  thing  to  damage  those  we  love,  however 
good  our  intentions  may  have  been."  Her  voice  was 
urgent,  and  quick  with  pain. 

"I  can't  see  how  you,  who  are  so  straightforward, 
can  put  up  with  his  not  knowing." 

She  looked  very  grave. 

"It  is  not  every  one  in  the  world  who  can  stand  up 
against  a  truth,  and  keep  their  sense  of  proportion. 
Adam  couldn't!  Many  people  can't,  and  if  we  fail  to 


FELICITY  CROFTON  323 

keep  that  proportion  in  mind,  then  it's  not  the  truth 
we  get,  after  all,  but  a  distorted  version  of  it,  and 
that's  every  bit  as  bad  to  live  with,  as  a  lie.  Besides, 
what  is  it,  that  you  call  a  lie  ?  The  fact  that  Adam  be- 
lieves something  of  me,  that's  not  true,  or  that  he 
believes  Stella  to  be  a  stronger  woman  than  she  is? 
If  it's  the  first,  then  by  now  he  does  not  think  very 
much  about  it.  If  he  regrets  his  old  idea  of  me  a  little, 
that's  better  than  that  he  should  forget  the  idea  he 
has  now  of  his  wife.  Perhaps  it's  not  a  correct  one, 
but  it's  a  good  one.  It  errs  on  the  right  side.  You 
know,  or  you  ought  to  know,  that  when  we  live  with 
people,  it  matters  enormously  what  we  think  about 
them.  Because  they  will  grow  like  it,  more  or  less, 
sooner,  or  later.  Adam's  idea  of  Stella  is  a  nice  one, 
and  I  am  quite  sure  she  has  it  in  her  to  develop  along 
that  line;  but  if  you  insist  on  telling  him  this,  he  will 
lose  that  idea,  and  she'll  suffer." 

Mark  moved  uneasily.  He  was  thinking  of  Stella's 
threat,  and  he  knew  that,  against  his  will,  he  was  suc- 
cumbing to  Madre's  wishes. 

"Suppose  she  were  willing — wished  to  tell  Adam?" 
he  suggested.  It  was  hardly  a  hope.  He  knew  Stella 
would  clutch  at  Madre's  wish. 

"That  would  be  different,  so  long  as  she  were  not 
'forced  to  it.  If  she  felt  so  sure  of  Adam,  that  she 
was  willing — "  she  broke  off.  To  her,  too,  that  was 
a  desirable  issue,  but  a  vain  one. 

Mark  shifted  his  ground. 

"You  forbid  me  to  move?" 

"There  are  only  very  few  people  in  the  world  that 
we  have  the  right  to  forbid  or  order.  I  want  you  to 
do  nothing  because  you  see  it  as  I  do." 

He  got  up,  and  again  moved  about  the  room  in  his 
restless  way.  She  watched  him  with  pleasure ;  loving 
his  thin  figure  and  brownness,  and  the  air  of  self-con- 
tainedness  he  conveyed. 


324  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"If  only  I  had  known,  I  would  have  written  straight 
to  Adam,"  he  groaned. 

"And  who  would  have  built  up  their  shattered  hap- 
piness then?" 

"Why  don't  you  and  Stella  trust  Adam?" 

She  looked  away.  It  was  not  a  demand  she  wanted 
to  face.  It  was  one  thing  to  recognise  the  flaws  in 
Adam,  another  to  acknowledge  them  to  Mark. 

"There  are  some  sorts  of  things  he  would  never 
understand.  In  the  first  place  it  would  have  been  com- 
paratively easy,  if  Stella  had  been  able  to  see  it.  I 
had  to  choose  for  him,  and  I  chose  to  give  his  son  the 
best  start.  Now  it  is  much  more  complicated  to  ex- 
plain." 

He  still  fought  for  his  way,  but  more  feebly,  and 
presently  he  had  only  one  arrow  left  to  his  bow. 

"I  got  leave  to  come,  you  know,  because  I  told  Lord 
Lugan  the  real  reason. 

"Wilfred  Lugan !  And  he  let  you  come  for  that  ?" 
Her  eyes  shone  faintly. 

"He  won't  be  best  pleased  that  I've  wasted  the  time 
for  nothing." 

"I'll  write  to  him.  Dear  Mark,  I  know  I  must  seem 
most  horribly  ungrateful." 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  he  was  conscience 
stricken.  Madre  of  old  was  not  given  to  tears. 

"Don't  worry,  Madre,"  he  said  hastily;  "it  shall  be 
as  you  like.  You  have  done  too  much  for  me  to  ever 
stand  against  you!" 

"I've  done  nothing  for  you." 

"You  gave  me  a  standard.  It's  a  useful  thing  for  a 
man  to  have." 

He  did  not  look  at  her.  He  looked  instead  at  an 
African  bowl,  took  it  up,  examined  it,  and  set  it 
down. 

"I  got  a  nice  bit  of  old  Cashmere  work  lately.  I 
meant  to  bring  it,  but  forgot  to  pack  it.  I'll  send  it 


FELICITY  CROFTON  325 

when  I  get  back.  By  the  way,  Lord  Lugan  sent  all 
sorts  of  messages  to  you." 

"Quite  sure  he  did?" 

Mark  knitted  his  brow. 

"Well,  he  began  to,  anyhow." 

"And  then  stopped !  Yes !  Will  you  tell  him  I  am 
very  glad  you've  got  so  good  a  chief,  and  he  so  good 
a  secretary?" 

"I'll  tell  him  verbatim!" 

He  began  talking  of  India.  Here  was  obvious  effort, 
but  she  soothed  it  out.  When  Bessington  entered 
they  were  talking  naturally  of  any  subject  under  the 
sun  but  the  one  that  had  brought  him  six  thousand 
miles. 

Bessington  carried  a  note  in  his  hand. 

"Tired,  Madre?"  He  looked  at  her  critically,  but 
she  shook  her  head. 

"I've  been  taking  Mrs.  Preston  for  a  drive,"  he  went 
on,  with  a  quick  glance  at  Mark,  "and  she's  sent  you 
this  note,  in  case  you  didn't  feel  up  to  seeing  her.  I 
felt  I  ought  to  explain  to  her  that  I  had  found  out 
about  how  things  were  between  you  and  her,  without 
your  telling  me — or  Mark!" 

His  tone  was  a  little  apologetic. 

Madre  was  opening  the  note  with  shaking  fingers. 
The  two  men  faced  each  other. 

"Madre  has  been  trying  to  convince  me  it's  my  duty 
to  hold  my  tongue  over  this  miserable  business." 

"Yes,  I  know  that's  her  view." 

"You  don't  agree?"  he  asked  sharply. 

Bessington  was  silent.  He  was  watching  Madre, 
who  had  read  the  note  and  was  looking  at  him  with  a 
wonderful  look  on  her  face. 

They  were  all  three  silent  a  moment. 

"Stella  sets  me  free  to  act  as  I  will,"  she  said 
softly. 

Mark  gazed  blankly  at  Bessington. 


326  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"How  did  you  do  it?" 

"Every  one  will  answer  some  call  or  other.  I  was 
lucky  enough  to  hit  on  the  right  one,  that's  all." 

Mark  turned  eagerly  to  Madre. 

"This  alters  matters." 

"Yes,  indeed  it  does.  You  see  how  we  misjudged 
her!  I  am  so  thankful,  Mark!" 

"But  you  will  be  reasonable  now?"  he  urged. 

"I  feel  more  than  ever  that's  what  I  have  been  all 
along." 

Mark  turned  to  Bessington  as  a  last  hope,  but  he 
shook  his  head. 

"Adam's  turned  up,"  he  said  slowly;  "apparently 
something  went  wrong  on  the  Staff  ride  and  when  he 
got  back  and  found  you  both  had  gone,  and  that  Madre 
was  ill,  he  came  up  to  enquire.  He's  out  in  the  garden 
with  Stella  and  Veronica." 

Mark  strode  up  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  It 
was  certainly  Adam  walking  up  and  down  and  puffing 
blight  off  Veronica's  roses.  All  his  old  affection  for 
him  struggled  to  the  surface,  fighting  against  his 
sterner  judgment. 

Felicity  leant  forward  with  beseeching  eyes. 

"Dominic,  do  you  think  he  would  mind  coming  up 
to  see  me  just  for  a  minute?  I  should  so  love  to  see 
him  again!" 

"He  shall  come." 

Mark  turned  quickly  and  went  out  of  the  room  to 
fetch  him. 

Felicity  still  held  the  note  in  her  hand. 

"How  did  you  do  it,  Dominic?" 

"Took  it  for  granted  that  that  was  what  she  meant 
doing  all  along." 

She  tore  the  note  in  little  fragments  and  put  it  in 
the  envelope. 

"I  might  have  saved  my  labour,"  he  groaned;  "what 
a  waste!" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  327 

"No,  it's  no  waste.  You  know  that !  It  was  splen- 
did of  you." 

"You'd  have  gone  on  fretting  else,"  he  grumbled, 
"and  I  had  a  faint  hope  you  would  use  it.  I  trust  you 
know  you  have  destroyed  her  only  defence  if  Adam 
ever  gets  to  hear." 

"Oh,  Dominic,  I  never  thought  of  that!" 

"You  can  keep  the  bits  anyhow,  or  give  them  to 
her.  And  perhaps  our  word  would  go  for  something." 

He  stood  up. 

"You  haven't  the  slightest  right  to  see  all  these  peo- 
ple to-day,  but  I  suppose  you  must  have  your  way,  as 
usual." 

Their  footsteps  were  in  the  hall.  He  looked  at  her 
anxiously.  Her  eyes  were  too  bright,  and  her  hands 
shaking  a  little,  but  he  could  see  it  would  not  do  to 
disappoint  her. 

Then  they  entered — Mark  followed  by  Adam,  and 
Stella  with  Veronica.  Stella's  eyes  flew  to  Bessington 
as  to  some  refuge.  She  was  clearly  afraid  of  what 
was  coming,  and  he  crossed  over  to  her  to  whisper  a 
word  of  reassurance.  Adam  went  straight  up  to 
Madre.  It  was  a  difficult  situation  for  him,  and  he 
faced  it  with  his  usual  directness. 

"Veronica  tells  me  you  have  been  seedy,  Madre. 
I'm  most  awfully  sorry,  but  what  on  earth  made  you 
go  and  live  in  the  city?  Have  you  turned  finan- 
cier ?" 

He  was  most  kind  and  anxious  to  set  her  at  ease, 
and  blot  out  from  her  mind  that  last  meeting  of  theirs. 
The  two  men,  listening,  felt  first  helpless  anger,  and 
then  a  gleam  of  humour  in  the  situation  became  ap- 
parent, at  least  to  Bessington.  Mark  saw  only  that 
reflected  in  his  face. 

"Camberley  agrees  with  you,  Adam.  What  was 
this  accident  that  brought  you  back?  No,  don't  tell 
me  yet.  I  haven't  seen  Stella." 


328  FELICITY  CROFTON 

She  leant  forward  and  held  out  her  hands.  Mark 
turned  away. 

For  the  fraction  of  a  second  Stella  hesitated. 

"Dominic  gave  me  your  note.  It  was  nice  of  you  to 
remember  about  it — but  I  really  don't  want  it  now. 
I'll  keep  it  for  a  remembrance." 

Stella  took  her  hand,  but  found  nothing  to  say.  Her 
whole  attention  was  riveted  on  the  need  of  not  be- 
traying herself.  Adam  intervened. 

"Stella  still  doesn't  believe  in  the  General's  accident, 
and  thinks  it  is  something  to  do  with  baby  that  brought 
me  back.  Her  mind's  at  Camberley,  and  we  must  go 
back  and  find  it." 

Felicity  was  conscious  of  a  sudden  throbbing  in  her 
ears,  and  a  sense  of  confusion  and  disappointment. 
She  looked  appealingly  at  Dominic  and  heard  herself 
saying,  in  an  odd  voice  hardly  like  her  own : 

"But  I've  hardly  seen  you  at  all,  Adam!" 

Bessington  came  between  her  and  the  others,  and 
said  something  that  she  did  not  catch,  but  they  all 
seemed  to  melt  away,  and  only  Veronica  and  Adam 
were  left,  and  the  latter  was  saying: 

"Just  five  minutes,  Adam,  so  that  she  will  feel  she 
has  seen  you." 

Then  she  too  was  gone. 

They  were  alone,  and  Adam  half  resented  it,  and 
half  accepted  it  as  the  shortest  way  out  to  set  matters 
on  a  better  footing.  He  was  in  truth  shocked  at  the 
change  in  her  since  their  last  meeting,  and  it  was  none 
of  his  business  to  think  to  what  it  might  be  due.  He 
had  been  too  hasty  and  inconsiderate  in  the  past.  He 
saw  that,  in  a  flash,  now,  though  all  these  months  it 
had  not  occurred  to  him. 

"Madre,  I  expect  I  said  a  great  deal  more  than  I 
had  any  business  to  say  the  last  time  we  met.  You 
must  be  kind,  and  remember  I  was  a  much  harassed 


FELICITY  CROFTON  329 

man.  You'll  be  your  old  generous  self  and  make 
allowance,  won't  you?" 

"There's  no  need,  my  dear,  I  quite  understand." 

"I  think  there  is  need.  It  wasn't  my  business  to 
say  anything  that  I  did;  and  there's  another  thing  I 
want  to  tell  you  badly.  That  is,  that  I  never  told 
any  one  about  it,  not  even  Stella.  On  my  word  of 
honour,  Madre!" 

He  was  genuinely  troubled  and  greatly  in  earnest. 
The  suspicion  that  she  thought  as  Bessington  had  done, 
hurt  him  most  cruelly. 

"Oh,  I  knew  that,  Adam!" 

"I  had  to  tell  Fafner,  because  he  came  to  see  me; 
but  he  did  not  learn  it  from  me." 

"It's  ancient  history,  my  dear.  I  know  just  how 
the  story  got  about.  Don't  worry.  It  doesn't  matter. 
How's  your  son?  Tell  me  about  him." 

After  all  he  was  glad  to  have  had  the  matter  out,  as 
he  thought.  He  had  been  annoyed  at  first  at  Mark 
dragging  Stella  up  here,  but  it  turned  out  just  right. 
There  was  now  no  need  to  go  on  being  on  bad  terms 
with  Madre,  and  he  would  much  sooner  be  friends. 
There  was  no  doubt  in  his  mind  now  that  Madre  had 
taken  the  stuff  because  she  was  ill.  She  might  even 
have  been  ordered  it.  She  hated  being  thought  ill,  and 
wouldn't  own  to  it.  That  was  the  reasonable  answer 
to  it  all.  Having  found  it,  he  could  dismiss  it  from 
his  mind. 

"You  ought  to  go  abroad  again,  Madre.  It  would 
pull  you  up.  Remember  how  much  better  you  were 
after  that  Corsican  trip?" 

Yes,  she  remembered. 

When  the  others  came  back  they  were  discussing 
travelling  possibilities. 

"I'm  telling  Madre  she  ought  to  think  of  that  Black 
Sea  trip  she  used  to  talk  about,"  he  said  to  Veronica, 


330  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"It  would  do  her  no  end  of  good  to  be  planning  some- 
thing." 

Bessington  looked  at  her  thoughtfully. 

"What  ever  you  may  do  about  travelling  to-morrow, 
you  are  going  to  rest  now,"  he  said  decidedly.  "Come 
along,  you  good  people.  Madre  has  had  visitors 
enough." 

He  walked  down  the  path  to  the  road  with  Adam, 
where  his  little  car  was  waiting.  Stella,  who  was  to 
go  back  with  her  husband,  was  speaking  to  Mark. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Madre  exactly  ?"  demanded 
Adam  abruptly. 

"Her  heart  has  gone  wrong.  The  doctor  says  she 
must  have  had  a  big  physical  strain  some  few  years 
ago.  She  can't  apparently  remember  anything  about 
it." 

He  looked  rather  fixedly  at  Adam,  who,  though  he 
looked  perplexed,  offered  no  enlightenment,  but  sum- 
moned Stella,  tucked  her  in  and  said  good-bye  to 
Mark. 

For  a  long  time  Adam  drove  silently,  and  Stella  was 
thankful.  She  wanted  time  to  get  command  of  her 
own  faculties,  foreseeing  possible  pitfalls  before  her. 
There  were  also  Mark's  last  words  to  her  to  consider : 
"It  will  be  all  right  so  long  as  you  run  straight,  Stella. 
That's  all  I  have  to  say." 

She  felt  that  it  was  too  much  to  say,  and  was  irri- 
tated with  him,  and  glad  that  he  had  not  accepted 
Adam's  invitation  to  put  in  his  time  with  them.  He 
must  go  to  Pieceminster  first,  he  had  said. 

"I  wonder  what  really  made  Madre  bad  to  begin 
with,"  remarked  Adam  at  last.  "The  doctor  says  some 
bad  strain,  but  doctors  are  such  idiots  sometimes. 
When  we  were  at  Bath — at  Fafner's,  I  remember, 
Madre  and  I  went  for  an  excursion  up  Monkton  Far- 
ley one  day,  and  a  big  stone  slipped,  or  nearly  slipped, 
and  she  kept  it  from  sliding  down  on  to  me,  because 


FELICITY  CROFTON  331 

I  was  in  its  way.  It  would  probably  have  smashed 
me  if  she  hadn't.  I  don't  suppose,  though,  it  could 
have  been  that" 

"She'd  remember  if  it  were,"  Stella  answered 
quickly.  She  did  not  want  Adam  to  dwell  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Madre. 

"I  suppose  she  would.  It  would  be  beastly  if  it 
were  all  because  she  had  done  something  for  me. 
We've  made  up  our  disagreement,  Stella.  I  never 
told  you  what  it  was  about,  and  I'm  not  going  to  now. 
You  never  asked." 

"Other  people  told  me.  It  doesn't  matter  now, 
Adam." 

"No.  She  says  she  knows  how  the  story  got  about. 
At  least  I  never  told  that." 

Stella  wriggled  impatiently.  It  was  very  distaste- 
ful. She  began  to  feel  sorry  for  herself.  She  was 
secure,  but  she  had  after  all  to  pay  some  sort  of  price 
for  her  security.  However,  on  the  whole  she  was  glad 
that  Adam  had  made  friends  with  Madre  again.  It 
would  be  easier  all  round.  The  most  curious  thing 
was,  she  held  no  malice  against  Dominic  Bessington. 


n 

They  were  alone  again,  and  for  a  brief  minute  Bes- 
sington was  alive  to  a  great  stillness  and  peace  in  the 
room,  that  cut  like  the  sharp  edge  of  a  knife  between 
them  and  the  outside  world  with  its  multiple  of  inter- 
ests and  conflicting  aims. 

It  was  only  momentarily  as  Time  counts  with  mor- 
tals— Time,  who  is  jealous,  catches  his  prisoners  back 
sharply  into  his  narrow  limits,  and  these  swift  glances 
into  the  regions  of  true  values  must  cramp  them- 
selves into  those  limits,  or  fail  our  perceptions  alto- 
gether, 


332  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Dominic !" 

It  was  Felicity  herself  who  pointed  the  limit 

"Dominic,  that  was  really  an  inspiration  of  Adam's5 
Do  find  me  the  guide  books  I  left  with  you." 

He  obeyed  her  mechanically.  Veronica,  who  was 
sitting  by  the  window,  looked  up  as  if  she  would 
speak,  and  then  refrained.  There  was  no  use  in  pro- 
testing. Madre  and  Dominic  would  settle  things,  and 
they  must  know  better  than  she  did.  Should  she,  or 
should  she  not,  put  Christopher  on  to  more  substantial 
food  ?  She  gave  the  problem  her  whole  attention.  It 
was  an  important  matter  and  it  was  for  her  decision 
alone. 

Dominic  found  the  books  and  brought  them  in. 
Madre  sat  up  quickly,  with  a  little  flush  of  colour  in 
her  face.  She  turned  the  leaves  over  quickly  to  one 
heavily  scored  page.  There  were  some  loose  sheets  of 
paper  in  it,  covered  with  writing. 

"I  worked  it  all  out  years  ago.  I  always  meant  to 
go  there." 

"Where?"  he  asked. 

"To  Trebizond  and  Turkey  in  Asia.  Dominic, 
couldn't  you  take  a  real  holiday  and  come  too  ?" 

"I  thought  it  was  too  adventuresome  a  journey  for 
Veronica,"  he  answered,  his  thoughts  leaping  back  to 
some  dim  recollection  of  idle  words  spoken  on  this 
same  subject  years  ago. 

"But  you  would  be  with  her  to  be  responsible! 
Veronica  dear,  you  would  like  it,  wouldn't  you  ?" 

"Like  what,  Madre?" 

"To  go  to  the  Black  Sea.  The  trip  we  used  to  talk 
about?" 

"There's  Christopher." 

"Wouldn't  he  be  all  right  with  the  Masters?" 

Veronica  looked  doubtful. 

"Why  shouldn't  Dorninjc  and  you  go  by  your-r 
selves?" 


FELICITY  CROFTON  333 

"I  am  not  going  without  you,  Veronica,"  said  Domi- 
nic quietly. 

"But  you  will  come !"  Madre's  voice  was  eager.  "Oh, 
Dominic,  you  don't  know  how  I  have  longed  to  make 
that  trip.  It's  all  new.  We  can  really  do  it  quite 
comfortably,  for  I've  spent  nothing  the  last  year. 
There's  a  strange,  beautiful  country  hidden  away  there 
that  hardly  any  one  knows.  I've  read  of  it,  and  I  met 
some  one  who  had  lived  out  there,  and  it  fired  me  to 
hear  of  it.  Think  of  the  evenings  there  on  the  fringe 
of  things — the  stars  and  the  desert.  Think  of  the  quiet 
of  the  tents,  the  little  lights  of  a  camp,  and  the  strange 
wonder  of  a  land  that  has  been !" 

The  vision  of  it  was  with  her  in  her  eyes,  so  that 
though  she  was  looking  at  Dominic,  she  hardly  saw 
him.  The  call  had  sounded  for  her  at  last,  and  she 
responded  with  every  fibre  of  her  being. 

"We  can  send  to  Ruman  to-morrow.  Don't  you 
know  him  ?  He  lives  in  Fleet  Street,  and  he  knows  all 
there  is  to  know  about  eastern  travel.  He'll  get  us 
the  right  men  and  tell  us  what's  wanted.  I  want  to 
go  by  the  old  caravan  route.  It's  still  the  trade  way, 
you  know ;  I  have  all  the  notes." 

Her  eyes  were  shining  with  excitement,  and  her 
eagerness  was  infectious;  but  Dominic  still  held  his 
peace.  Veronica  came  and  leant  over  the  table  by  her 
mother.  She  too  had  been  momentarily  carried  back 
into  the  interest  of  other  days. 

"It's  all  that  Mr.  Cleaver's  doings.  I  wonder  if  he 
is  still  at  Baiburt.  Do  you  remember  how  we  liked 
his  wife?" 

They  fell  to  talking  of  recollections  that  meant  noth- 
ing to  Bessington.  He  pushed  back  his  chair  and 
watched  them.  He,  too,  was  thinking.  In  his  ear 
there  were  two  voices: — 

"A  perfectly  quiet  life  in  the  country,  doing  noth' 

ing" 


334  FELICITY  CROFTON 

"Don't  let  her  think  herself  an  invalid.  Let  her  do 
what  she  sets  her  heart  on  doing." 

Which  was  he  to  follow? 

Common  sense,  which  said,  "Here's  a  woman  with 
a  strained  heart,  who,  the  doctors  say,  should  do  noth- 
ing for  the  rest  of  her  life,  and  who  only  really  lives 
when  she  is  doing  things,  moving,  seeing  and  enjoying 
life,  as  only  she  can  enjoy  it.  Is  she  to  enjoy  it  to  the 
end,  when  ever  that  end  may  be,  or  spend  her  time 
warding  off  that  end  in  dull  stagnation?" 

He  thought  of  his  father  and  that  weary  life  on  the 
veldt.  What  gain  had  he  found  in  his  spun-out  years  ? 
Was  life  itself,  cut  off  from  its  natural  atmosphere, 
worth  living?  His  heart  thrilled  to  see  Madre  again 
full  of  eager  interest,  her  energy  flashing  out,  if  only 
for  a  time. 

Why  shouldn't  it  last? 

"Don't  set  limits  in  your  thoughts  to  God's  power." 
Anyhow,  his  word  should  not  quench  this  new  found 
energy. 

The  two  voices  sunk  into  the  background ;  what  re- 
mained uppermost  in  his  mind  was  the  knowledge  that 
he  understood  her  too  completely,  shared  with  her  too 
exact  a  sympathy  of  soul,  to  stand  between  her  and  her 
desire. 

Veronica  must  go  too,  of  course. 

She  would  hate  leaving  the  child.  He  did  not  like 
that  himself,  but  Christopher  would  be  safe.  Surely 
they  could  make  some  sacrifice  for  one  they  loved, 
who  was  always  ready  to  sacrifice  herself  for 
others. 

In  his  heart  he  knew  that  for  him  it  was  no  sacri- 
fice, for  he  too  was  eager  for  the  star  lit  nights,  the 
clean  cold  air  of  the  desert  and  the  outposts  of  civili- 
sation— eager  to  watch  her  drinking  it  in,  and  to  be 
with  her  there. 

Veronica's  voice  broke  in  on  him, 


FELICITY  CROFTON  335 

"I  don't  think  you  know,  Madre,  that  Dr.  Clifford 
will  like  it." 

Felicity  looked  up  at  him  quickly.  The  moment 
of  decision  was  on  him.  She  would  abide  by  it,  he 
knew,  and  he  knew  it  was  not  in  him  to  quench  the 
eagerness  of  her  spirit. 

"Dominic,  you  understand  better  than  doctors.  You 
won't  be  unkind,  will  you?" 

He  looked  into  her  eyes,  that  smiled  at  him,  and  he 
saw  she  understood  all  that  was  involved,  and  had 
weighed  the  case  for  herself.  He  saw  the  courage  and 
fire  of  her  inextinguished  youth  flickering  to  life  again, 
and  he  smiled  back: 

"All  right,  Madre.    We'll  go!" 


END 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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